Outgunned, Outmanned
by Buckets-Of-Stars
Summary: Alexander Washington, adopted son of President George Washington, was taken from his home as part of an experiment to weed out the abusive families secretly holding a poor foster kid hostage. But the plan backfires severely, leading to more pain for Alex, and a manhunt for the people involved. Modern, Alpha/Omega!AU, NO SLASH! Omega!Alexander, Alpha!GWash. Father-Son Relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Outgunned, Outmanned

 **(Disclaimer: I don't own** ** _Hamilton:_** ** _An America Musical_** **, Lin-Manuel Miranda does.)**

 **A/N: Hello! This is my first time posting a fanfic for any Fandom ever, so I apologize if it is a little rusty at the start, but it will get better, I promise! I have about 3 chapters of** ** _Outgunned,_** ** _Outmanned_** **written so far, so please let me know if you like this story so I can post them. In-Betad, so all mistakes are mine alone. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story, and don't forget to review! :D**

 _ **TRIGGER WARNING! This Chapter Does Mention Child Abuse And Non-Con, So If Those Are Triggers For You, Please Read At Your Own Risk!**_

George knew the new plan was meant to help.

The Coven, a council of the "wisest" Werewolves in all of North America, was a law above even the President of the United States. They had made this new Bill, had pitched it to him in hope he would agree, but the Alpha had snarled, disgusted at the idea of having his children taken from him.

Martha had gone on an Omega tangent when she found out, made a nest right in the middle of the Oval Office, plopping both Alex and Gilbert in the sea of blankets. With all 3 Omega's bundled up, George remembers feeling a protective instinct rear up that was so strong that it took his breath away.

But none of that had helped, the law was still passed, now called Operation Evaluate. And everyone hated it.

He knew it was supposed to weed out the bad families. The abusers. The ones who will take a poor foster kid, Alpha or Omega, and hurt them.

But that still didn't make it any easier.

They took his child, his baby from his home, from The White House, where he was safe and loved and where no one could hurt him, and they moved him into a temporary home.

Gilbert, his other Omega son, was safe from the new law, away from home on a European field trip for school. He would be back after it was taken out of place. George thanking everything wholly that both his boys would not be taken from him, but cursing everything under the sun that one was.

It was just for three months. Just long enough for the social workers to evaluate the real abusers and take action. But the President could barely bare it.

Alexander was barely 12, his birthday had passed just 3 weeks ago. He was a small Omega, with large brown eyes and a bright smile. He is The President of the United States's child, his boy.

They weren't allowed contact for the time he was away, as the experiment might be messed up.

George thought it was complete bullshit.

He knew Alex wasn't happy. He could feel it through their bond, could feel his boy's desperation and despair. It made his instincts higher, his teeth staying fangs and his eyes always slit and dark.

The President was in a meeting. His inner circle sitting around him, talking about taxes and trading, but the Alpha was not listening. Alexander was always on his mind, and not knowing if he was safe was making George tense.

Then the phone call came.

One of the Secret Service members came in, an Alpha with deep blue eyes. He leaned down to speak into the President's ear, which twitches as he listens.

"I am sorry to interrupt your meeting sir, but you need to take this call."

Giving a nod at his Vice President, John Adams, the President walks out of the room.

The Service member leads him to the Oval Office, where he hands him the phone, which is buzzing like crazy.

"Thank you." George says, and the other Alpha doesn't respond, instead choosing to stand outside the doorway, keeping guard as the Commander-In-Chief brings the phone up to his ear.

What he hears makes him lose control.

Alexander Washington just wanted to go home.

They had taken him from his parents a few weeks ago. He had cried and begged and pleaded to not go. He had held on to his Daddy for dear life, little fingers clutching George's shirt as he sobbed, Martha crying behind him, holding her little boy's hand as he shakes.

But still they made him leave. They took him and dropped him off at the Lee house.

Charles Lee and his wife, Jane, were nice at first.

They took him out to get ice cream his first day, and weren't bothered by the press when they swarmed them, wanting to get a glimpse of President Washington's remaining son.

They all went back to the house and made sundaes instead, letting Alex put extra chocolate sauce on when he asked. He still missed his parents though.

But then they started to get not so nice.

It was little things at first. A mean look there, a small tap here, no dinner one night.

Then it escalated.

A slap, a punch, thrown in his room and left there all day, not let out for hours on end, mean words spit at him. He had cried, had pleaded to be taken back to his Daddy and Mommy.

The crying seemed to make it worse.

Jane would slap him every time he would make a sound, then would leave him in his room, promising more pain when Charles would get home.

Lee would belt Alex when he arrived, would beat him bloody and black and blue. Would scream things at him, nasty, vulgar things that haunt his dreams.

Then he started _touching_ him.

The Alpha would rut against the 12 year old, licking his face and biting his neck, leaving bruises and marks. Lee would kiss him and touch his ears, making them twitch and lie flat against his head.

It lasted for weeks.

Alex would clean during the day, being left mostly alone to dust and sweep. Lee and Jane would go to work, locking the door tight behind them, making sure to tell the small Omega the consequences of trying to run away. He tried a few times, once even going the length to try and break through the wall. But all attempts failed and just left him in more pain.

But today was different.

Lee had left his cell phone on the counter, the screen unlocked.

Alex swallows, glancing behind him at the locked door, before setting the bottle of glass cleaner down along with the dirty rag, and grabbing the phone. He runs up the stairs, to his room, and closes the door.

Breathing heavily, the Omega starts to shake, making him have to type in the number 3 times, frustrated and scared tears running down his face.

But when he hits _call_ , it all slows down.

It rings for what seems like years, and Alexander grits his teeth, one ear listening for noises downstairs, the other focused on the cell phone in his hands.

 _"Hello, this is_ _Samuel Madison,_ _Secretary of_ _The White_ _House._ _What can I do for you today?"_

The voice is familiar. James Madison, one of his friends from school, told him once that his dad worked at the White House, so this must be him. It makes Alex sob in relief and it takes him a second to find his voice.

"M-Mr. Madison, it's me, Alex! I n-need help, please, sir can you get my Dad? Can you get Da-daddy for me please?" Alexander is whispering furiously, breath coming in gasps and pants, eyes filling with moisture.

 _"Alex?! Oh_ _my God, hold on son,_ _I will_ _get him_ _right this_ _second!"_

There is some fumbling and beeping, then silence. A door closes on the other line, and the 12 year old flinches, ears twitching. A whimper falls from his lips when he hears George's voice, somewhat muffled from the speaker on the phone.

 _"This is the President."_

 **A/N: Don't forget to R &R! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here is Chapter 2! I hope you enjoy!:D** ** _Trigger Warning for talk of child abuse and Non-Con!_**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Hamilton: An American Musical._**

"This is the President."

George says this with confidence, cool and collected, ready to deal with anything that could be said by the other line. But nothing could prepare him for what comes next.

 _"D-daddy? I need help, please Daddy, they keep hurting me and h-hitting me, and I-I don't know what to d-do! He keeps t-t-touching me and I don't like it! He keeps bitting me and k-kissing me! Please help me Daddy! Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy. . ."_

George's vision is suddenly bathed in red.

His breath comes in pants and gasps as he feels his instincts taking over. His hands turn into paws, claws the size of daggers. His nose turns into a pointed snout, lips curling back into a snarl to expose sharp, white fangs.

 _"Daddy?"_ Alexander's voice is horse from crying, so small and precious that George is snapped out of his rage, if only for a second.

"Shh, I'm here baby, I promise. I am on my way to get you sweetheart. Daddy's coming Alex, just hold on for a little longer, okay?" As he speaks, the President bursts from his office, startling his Head Officer, Jim Mulligan, from his place at the end of the hall.

Mulligan takes one look at the half transformed President and immediately jumps into action. Speaking quickly into his microphone, the General calls for backup as he makes his way toward George. He speaks once he gets closer.

"What do you need, sir?" The Omega salutes, standing with his heels touching as George stops.

"They are hurting my puppy. I need to go and get him and kill the bastards for even looking at Alexander wrong." The Alpha's voice is a deep growl, a rumble in his chest as he starts to walk again, tail snapping behind him in aggravation.

Bringing his phone back up to his ear, George listens as Alex continues to babble on the other end, wishing more than anything that he was there to protect him.

They reach the black car that has become the President's travel vehicle, the sun too bright and cheery in George's opinion as it peaks its head behind puffy clouds.

Climbing into the back, the Alpha growls at the slowness of his team. Mulligan gives him a look, but George ignores it, instead choosing to yip softly into the phone when his boy begins to cry again.

"Take us to the Lee residence as fast as you can." Washington orders his driver after getting the address from Alexander, the engine roaring to life as they pull out of the White House.

Glancing behind them, the Commander-In-Chief is relieved to see an Army Tank following close behind, while Police cars flash their blue and red lights ahead.

It takes a good 15 minutes to get to the Lee house, and all the while the Alpha is growling, eyes slit and dark. Mulligan squirms in the dark leather seat, affected by the tinge of protective and possessive pheromones George knows he is admitting.

It feels like years later, but they finally pull into the as-fault driveway.

Ignoring the warnings from the Omega General, the President jumps out of the car, transforming as he walks.

A purple WELCOME mat is scratchy under his pads as George snarls, ears pushing against the top of his head as he waits for his men to bust open the dark, oak door.

An officer, her blond ears twitching from under her hat, takes a large battering ram from the back of a tank as it rolls to a stop. She walks up the driveway, a Lieutenant following close behind, both glancing wearily at the enraged President.

They salute when they get to the porch, tails snapping straight. George looks at the barrier separating him and his baby once more, Alex's scent seeping out from under the wood, before transforming back into his human state.

Mulligan walks up the steps to stand beside the President, hand snapping into a salute when he arrives. George relieves them, wanting to get this over with quickly. His boy, his pup, was in this house, in pain and scared. And the Alpha would not stand for it, making him shake in pure rage.

"Break down the door." The Commander gives the order in a whisper, but he knows the General hears.

The Omega salutes before nodding at the Lieutenant, who, with a grunt, brings the black bat down on the door. It doesn't give way for a few seconds, but after 3 hard hits with the weapon, the wood splinters with a sharp crack.

The door gives way after a few more pounds and George has to be physically restrained by Mulligan to not rush into the house the second the barrier was down.

All the scents rush into his nose at the same time as the Special Opps team makes their way inside, guns up and ready to fire. They check the kitchen and living room, finding both clear and undisturbed, aside from a half used bottle of glass cleaner, and a blue wash cloth sitting on the countertop.

Getting the signal from the lead officer, the President steps through the doorway, taking in the dark leather couches and large T.V as he breathes in deeply.

The first scent that reaches his nose is musky, obviously male and an Alpha. A softer, more feminine smell, comes after. Lee and Jane.

But then it hits him.

It is faint, as if he had not been down for a couple of days, but Alexander's scent is still there. George grabs it like a life line and pulls.

It smells bitter, tainted with pain and fear, and the rusty stench of blood. But still there. Washington snarls, eyes flashing and ears falling back onto his skull as he follows his officers up the stairs. They reach the top in a matter of seconds, Mulligan signaling with one hand for his troops to check the first room.

They burst in, guns aimed.

Nothing. Just a bed, the comforter perfectly made, and a white dresser. A lamp sits in the corner, its yellow light casting eerie shadows on the cream colored walls.

"Clear." A troop says, ears erect, before turning and walking out.

George holds back a howl of frustration, hair bristling as they make their way to another room. They get the same result, but from the size of the bed and the heavy scent of both occupants, the President concludes that it is the master bedroom.

His lips pull up in a smirk as he takes in the flower print on the bed, already knowing that the wife had a horrible taste in design. _Martha would be appalled._ The Alpha thinks in amusement as he walks to stand in the hallway. His amusement is short lived, however, when he catches the signal the Lieutenant gives.

1 finger is held up. One more room to go.

 **A/N: Don't forget to R &R!:)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: And Chapter 3 is up! Hope you all enjoy!:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Hamilton: An American Musical. Trigger Warning for child abuse and non-con!_**

The Commander holds his breath as the troops throw the door open, ears straining for any hint of noise.

 _There. A whimper. Alexander._ George growls, hair standing on end as he pushes the officers out of the way.

And stops as soon as he sees inside the smallest room.

Alexander is sitting behind a bed-or cot, if he was being honest. His legs are pulled up to his chest, one small hand clutching a gray smartphone to his cheek. His beautiful brown eyes are red and watery, tears making their way down his bruised cheeks. Dark circles stand out against his pale skin. Dried blood stains his pup's green shirt in patches, the crimson becoming darker as the Alpha stands there, the red sliding down his forehead from a deep gash above one eye.

George is gasping, vibrating with anger as Mulligan slips past him, the Omega catching a glance of Alex seconds after the President.

"Alexander? It is okay, you are safe now." The General whispers, slowly making his way to Alex on his hands and knees, trying not to scare the puppy anymore than he already is.

But the young Omega doesn't seem to understand. He cries out suddenly in fear, trying to push himself further into the corner, dropping the smartphone in the process. It shatters, shards of glass scattering everywhere, glistening in the light of a nearby window like small diamonds.

Alex sobs in pain at the movement, clutching his bruised arm, and curls into himself.

"I'm sorry, so sorry! Please don't touch me anymore please! I want to leave, please take me home, I want my Daddy, _I want Daddy_!" The last part is shrieked, his puppy's voice going so high that it make George's ears ring.

But it snaps him out of his shock.

The President shifts, muscles rippling under his dark pelt as he darts forward. Alexander gasps in shock when he sees his father's transformed state and immediately shifts as well, his fluffy, brown fur slicked red with blood.

George snarls at the other occupants of the room as he walks to stand above his boy, bearing his teeth. Alex whimpers from under him, and the President licks his face, and around his ears, growling at the copper taste that stains his tongue.

 _"It's okay love, you are okay now. I will never let anyone touch you or hurt you like that again."_ The Alpha says, lowering his body down so that it covers his puppy. Alex just cries, burying his small head into his father's belly fur.

The Officers in the room glance at one another, before looking to Mulligan for guidance. The Omega is still crouched on the carpet, but gets up once he sees that the President doesn't need him.

"We need to gather evidence. Someone call an ambulance and contact the FBI, as fast as you can." The Officer orders, feeling satisfied when his troops immediately follow.

George pays them little attention, instead choosing to shift back to human, humming quietly into Alexander's ear as his child shakes.

They sit there, the President kissing his boy's head periodically as Alex snuggles closer. The Alpha lets his pheromones admit from his scent glands, wrapping his puppy up in his protective and possessive smell.

Troops march in and out of the room, their boots stomping on the brown carpet. General Mulligan leads the FBI Director into the bedroom, the Omega stopping a few feet from the two Washington's, nose twitching as he catches George's scent, tail instinctively tucking between his legs.

"Sir?" Mulligan says, continuing when he sees George's dark ears twitch, "This is Chief Director Meeks, he wanted to speak with you."

"We need to get Alex out of this house before I am speaking to anyone." The Alpha orders, carefully standing up, and holding his son close.

The Omega whines high in his throat at the movement as fresh blood drips down his face. George feels the wolf residing under his skin bristle at the sound, causing his dark ears to fold back as he gently licks at his baby's wounds, growling at the copper taste that coats his tongue.

Agent Meeks looks as if he wants to protest as the President is led out of the room, Alex positioned carefully on his hip.

The Omega shivers in George's arms, instinctively ducking away from the unknown Alpha's stare as they pass, a chittering noise escaping him.

Washington snarls a warning to the Agent, lips curling over slightly red teeth, making the sight all the more emphasized. Meeks backs away slowly, lowing his ears and head in submission, red colored tail tucking between his dress pants clad legs.

Alex shakes in his father's arms as they make their way down the stairs, tired brown eyes searching diligently in front of them as if he were afraid Lee was going to pop out any second, flinching occasionally as a troop, or agent passed. All George can do is kiss his head every so often, yipping quietly into his ears to try and calm his puppy down.

Both Washingtons stop at the doorway, Mulligan stepping out of the house first, gun up and aimed.

"All clear." The Omega officer says after a few sweeps, stepping aside so the Commander and his boy can exit.

An ambulance is waiting for them when they step out into the sunshine, its lights still flashing red and blue. Two Medics make their way over to the 4 of them, Director Meeks having walked out of the house behind George.

"I need every agent available to be searching that goddamn house from top to bottom. And when you find Lee and his mate. . . _Leave them to me._ " The President orders quietly before the medics get too close, voice a deep rumble in his chest as he looks at the Director, eyes like shards of ice.

"Yes Sir!" Meeks salutes reluctantly, a frown marking his features, before walking back into the house once released, orders already falling from his mouth.

George takes a second to breath in his boy's scent, kissing Alex gently on the head as they walk to meet the medical personals, Officer Mulligan following close behind.

After each person is patted down, a stretcher is brought out, George trying to carefully place Alexander on it before they get into the car.

" _No_! Daddy, please don't leave! Please, I'm scared and it _hurts_ , please stay _please_!" The Omega cries, trying to worm his way back into the Alpha's arms, whimpering at the pain throbbing from his ribs and head, tears leaking from his eyes.

"It's okay, baby. I am not going anywhere Alexander. Shhh, honey stop, you are going to hurt yourself. I am right here." The President mutters, sitting beside his son, and gently pulling his into his lap.

Alex cries, ears pressed back against his dark hair as he shivers. After a few seconds of struggle, the cot starts to move, George nearly sighing in relief when they finally get the stretcher up and into the Ambulance.

 **A/N: Don't forget to R &R!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! I had a little bit of extra time after Photography Class today, so here is Chapter 4!:) I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Hamilton: An American Musical._**

 _ **Trigger Warning for talk of child abuse and non-con!**_

"Mr. President, we need you to step away from the cot please." An Alpha Nurse with steel-gray eyes says as he pulls an I.V. out from the wall, wiping it off with a sterile cloth.

George reluctantly takes a step back as the female nurse closes the doors and walks closer, her motherly scent sending soothing waves over both Washingtons, reminding the President of his wife.

"Hello, Alexander. My name is Mary. Can you tell me and Steve what is hurting, sweetie? Are you in pain?"

The Omega glances at George once, and seeing him smile encouragingly, gives one jerking nod.

The Alpha known as Mary gives Alex a gentle smile before turning toward the President, her face become serious.

"Mr. President, I know you are dealing with your instincts right now. I know that it is hard letting anyone near your child right now, especially an Alpha, but you need to trust that we are not going to do anything that Alexander does not want us to do." Her voice is soft, but controlling, commanding George to say yes.

The other Alpha, Steve, waits patiently on the side of the bed, making sure to stay in both Washington's line of sight. The I.V. he picked up earlier is still in his hand, the needle carefully pointed away from Alex, knowing that anything can make George snap if not careful.

The Commander-In-Chief looks both Medics up and down once, lifting his nose to sniff for any suspicious scent, his dark eyes never leaving his son's face.

 _"I will sit next to him."_ It is not a suggestion, but a command coming from the most powerful Alpha in the Nation.

Both Mary and Steve shiver at the power in it, while Alexander whimpers, having watched the whole affair with wide eyes. _"But if you do anything that hurts my son, I will not be responsible for my actions."_

"Yes sir." The medics speak as one, eyes slightly misty as they shake George's voice from their minds.

The President gives one more huff, before slipping into the thin bed beside his son, a deep rumble coming from his chest as Alex curls up to him.

Steve steps up once he sees that both Washingtons are settled, slowly bringing the I.V. into Alexander's line of vision. The small Omega's chocolate colored eyes widen as he sees the needle, a chitter rising from his throat.

George tenses at the sound, tightening his hold on his baby, but doesn't do anymore than that, trembling as he struggles to hold onto his instincts.

"Hey there Alex, my name is Steven, but everyone just calls me Steve." The Alpha smiles down at the child, trying to keep his attention off of the needle.

The ambulance hits a small bump in the road, making it bounce and causing the bag of fluids to slosh above their heads.

 _"We will be arriving at Mary Jefferson in t-minus 10 minutes. Have the patient ready to be up and moved before we get there."_ The radio located at the foot of the bed blares the signal, causing Alex to flinch.

Mary reaches over the side of the cot, flips the switch on the walkie-talkie, and replies with a quick "Roger that." before shutting it off and standing back up.

The female Alpha nods at Steve once, before getting the other machines ready for the movement into the Hospital.

George is watching this all happen with hyper awareness, nostrils flaring as both Medics move about the small space, eyes flickering between the two Alphas and his child.

Steve looks back at the chart on the wall, seeming to take a measurement, before turning back to the President and Alexander, eyes kind and slightly weary. George is immediately on high alert.

"Now listen Alex, we are going to be arriving at the Hospital very soon, and in order for them to get you into a room, and checked out properly, we need to get some fluids in you and keep track of your heartbeat." The Medic's voice is gentle, but laced with authority, his blond hair falling to cover part of his forehead as he leans down.

Alexander swallows, his hands shaking as he clutches George's blue button-up shirt in his fingers.

"They just need to give you one little shot, sweetheart. Then we can go into a private room and you can take a nap. Would you like that?" The President asks softly, gently brushing a stray strand of dark hair from his puppy's forehead.

"Y-yes." The Omega stutters, bruised cheeks coloring a light shade of pink as he looks down.

Steve smiles slightly at the gesture, before giving a pointed glance at the Commander-In-Chief.

"Can you give Mr. Steve your arm, love? Then it will be all over and we can maybe get you some food." George whispers as the car turns right.

Alex nods, and lifts out his right arm, flinching only once as the needle is gently pushed in, fluids rushing through the tube and into his blood stream. A black tab is placed on the end of his right ring finger, a red light flashing on the screen beside the bed, showing the 12 year old's heartbeat.

George thought that it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

The Ambulance makes one last turn, then comes to a easy stop. Steve checks Alexander's chart one last time, before unclipping it from the wall and handing it to Mary. The female Alpha opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off as the back doors are suddenly pushed open, the metal squeaking.

2 new medics arrive, both wearing identical pairs of mint green scrubs, a stethoscope resting on the neck of the Alpha, his light green eyes zeroing in on Alex with eire concentration. George flashes his teeth at the man, causing him to back off, dark ears twitching.

Washington, after being asked politely by the more timid Omega nurse, slowly lowers himself from the moveable bed despite his son's protests, kissing him softly on his forehead to calm him.

Mary, taking the chart from Steven, starts to read off the information from the paper to the newest medics as the cot is lifted from the vehicle.

"Full Name: Alexander James Washington, Sex: Male, Age: 12 years old, Weight: 105 pounds. His blood pressure is high: 134/56, but fluids are being given to him as we speak, so hopefully that will change within the next hour."

All the while, Alex is holding onto his Daddy's hand in a vise grip, the movement jolting his wounds, and causing more blood to flow from his head. He lets out a squeak of pain and George fights down his fury as they start to walk into the hospital, a growl getting stuck in his throat as the automatic doors _whoosh_ open.

 **A/N: Don't forget to R &R!:)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys! Here is Chapter 5. It is a little bit short, but I hope you enjoy!:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Hamilton: An American Musical._**

 ** _Trigger Warning for talk of child abuse and non-con!_**

More Nurses, as well as Doctors bustle around the hallways and connected rooms, checking papers and filling out notes, but all the commotion stops as soon as the Secret Service Members burst in from a side door, the hinges squeaking.

General Jim Mulligan is in the lead, letting out a relieved breath when he spots the President and his boy.

"Sir, we have checked this entire floor and have prepared a room for Alexander, as well as gotten an extra bed for you and the First Lady." As Mulligan speaks, they start to wheel Alex down the long hallway, the fluorescent lights making his skin seem green and sickly.

"Mommy. . ." Alex whispers, as if suddenly remembering that Martha was not there. Tears fill his eyes, slipping down his cheeks like small droplets of glass. "I want Momma!"

George gently shushes him, wiping his tears with one hand, the other running through the dark strands of his hair. "She will be here very soon sweetheart, we can even call her once you are done being looked at."

That seems to calm the Omega a little because his tears stop after a minute, his shaking settling down to an occasional tremor. Yawning, Alex leans his head into the President's side as they start to slow, turning into a open room.

A bed sits on the far wall, covered in fresh white sheets, and one fluffy pillow, over looking a small black television. A large window sits to the left of it, the blinds cracked slightly to let in some of the sunlight, the green peaking through hinting at a courtyard filled with bright flowers. A smaller bed is settled to the right of an even smaller brown nightstand, taking up what little space is left. All around the bed posts are wires and machines, some already pumping air into smaller tubes, while others sit stationary.

All in all, George hates it.

Stepping in after Alex and the Medics, the Alpha breathes in deeply, snorting as the smell of chemicals and soap fill his senses. Shaking his head, he smells even deeper, finally feeling satisfied when he catches Alexander's scent, his hair standing on end when George smells his baby's fear and pain.

"We need to move you now Alexander. You will be more comfortable in the bigger bed." The Nurse with the green eyes was saying, leaning down close to the Omega's face as he speaks.

Alex squeaks at the sudden intrusion, trying in vain to lean away from the Alpha.

The man doesn't seem to realize the small Omega's discomfort, and begins to try and lift Alexander from George's arms. He gets about 3 seconds in, his hands sliding over the 12 year old's knee, causing Alex to sob, his ears flattening against his head.

"Don-don't t-touch me please, _please_!"

That is when George snaps.

Snarling, the President grabs the Nurse's hands, throwing him away from his child.

The Secret Service Members that were standing guard outside the door rush in, guns drawn and aimed at the other Alpha. Jim steps up as if to interfere, but Washington glares at him and he backs off, glancing warily at the green eyed male.

George pays the agent no mind, instead choosing to push the man into the far wall, teeth flashing and fur bristling.

"If you ever touch my son again, I will have my teeth buried in your throat faster than you can yell 'Shit!'" The Alpha brings his face inches away from the medic's, whose eyes are wide and filled with fear, ears drawn back. " _Do I make myself clear?_ "

"Yes sir." The man gulps, Adam apple bobbing as George releases him with one last growl.

Stalking back over to Alex, George is quick to lift his baby into the bigger bed, all senses focusing on the other people in the room. The President's scent wraps around his child as the Medic picks himself off the wall, taking a cautious step toward both Washingtons.

The Commander snarls a warning to the man, signaling with one hand for the nearest agent to escort him out.

"I do not want anything like that to happen again." Is all George says, making sure to lace his voice with Presidential and Alpha authority so no one can question the seriousness of that statement.

All Agents nod, Jim immediately requesting that every Nurse and Doctor that would be assigned to Alexander have a background check and screening done before they even enter the room.

A beeping fills the room as Alexander's heart monitor is set up to the left of his cot, while his I.V. is placed to the right. George gently licks at his child's wounds as Mary comes over to Alex's right side, his chart being hung on the bed frame above his head.

"We need him changed into a hospital gown as soon as possible." Steve says, handing the President the white garment as the Secret Service members exit.

The Alpha growls under his breath as he feels Alexander stiffen against his side, but gives the Medic a nod to show that he understands.

"Thank you Mr. President." The grey eyed Alpha says as Mary sets up a sheet around the Omega's bed, shielding him from prying eyes, and giving them an allusion of privacy.

George doesn't take his eyes off the other Alphas until the swishing of the curtains seize, leaving both Washingtons alone for the first time that day.

 **A/N: Don't forget to R &R!:)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey my amazing readers! Here is Chapter 6 for your viewing pleasure! I hope you guys enjoy, and let me know what you think!:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Hamilton: An American Musical._**

 _ **Trigger Warning for talk of child abuse and non-con!**_

It is quiet, the only sound being the relentless beeping of the heart machine, and an occasional voice from beyond the barrier of clothe. George takes this moment to kiss his baby's face, instincts still running high after all the excitement.

"All right love, let's get you out of these dirty clothes." The President finally whispers, sitting up, and grabbing the gown in one hand.

Alex shakes his head, brown eyes wide, the dull light of the blinded window reflecting in his blood shot irises. "I don't want to Daddy."

"Why not, baby?" The Alpha questions, licking his gash that is starting to dry up, Alex clenching his teeth at the sting.

The Omega is quiet for a few minutes, his breathing raspy as he gains his courage to start speaking. His voice is shaky when he begins.

"They- _he-_ did some bad things to me Dad. They hurt me and. . . " Alexander trails off, a sob ripping from his throat. He whimpers at the pain of wounds gained and the ones still torturing him as he talks. "I d-don't want t-to see what th-they, what _he_ , did to me, and I-I don't want _you_ to see. . ."

The 12 year old whines high, shivering as he remembers the way Lee would touch him and kiss him and bite him. He feels bile rise up from his stomach, and he knows that his father can smell his pain and fear.

George snarls silently, his teeth enlarging and becoming razor sharp. Shaking, the Commander gently pulls his son into a tight embrace, wiping Alexander's tears away with his thumbs. Fighting his instincts, the Alpha nuzzles his boy's head, feeling his gut clench as he listens to him cry. Rocking them back and forth, George gives Alex a few minutes to get it all out, feeling helpless and hating every second of it.

Finally, the President lifts the Omega's face from his shirt, giving him a soft smile when Alex blinks up at him, eyes red and puffy from his tears. Cooing, George leans down to kiss his head, his skin warm to the touch.

"I know you are scared sweetheart, and I know that those _monsters_ hurt you, but no matter what I see, or what you do can make me love you any less, I promise." Washington whispers against his boy's hair, Alex sniffling and shifting closer on the tiny bed. "You will always be my child, and I will always be your father, and I will never, _ever_ stop loving or protecting you Alexander James Washington."

His little boy lets out a small wail, body sagging against George's as through he was a puppet and his strings were all cut at once. Hot, salty tears flow from his eyes once more, soaking the Alpha's shirt as he is clutched with small, bruised fingers.

The curtain separating the Service Members from the two Washington's is slowly pulled aside, a single gray eye peaking through before snapping away at the Commander's glare.

"Give us a few more minutes." George growls out at the swishing sheets, before slowly pulling out of his child's embrace, ignoring his pup's whimper, his heart breaking at the sound.

Once he has pride Alexander's fingers from his shirt, the President lifts up the hospital gown, Alex's brown eyes widening when he realizes that George was making him put it on.

The Omega cringes as George steps closer, taking his baby's face in his hands. "You need to put this on Alexander. I already know that you are hurt, and that you are in _pain_ , sweetheart, so please help me help you."

The 12-year old starts to shake his head, but frowns after a second. With a sigh, Alex gives one last look at the white clothe, before focusing on his father's dark eyes once more. His voice is soft, almost mouthing the words when he speaks.

"Okay Daddy."

The relief George feels almost makes him sigh, but he holds it back, instead choosing to smile softly at his boy as Alex sits up. The Omega winces at the pain of his wounds, a few small droplets of blood staining the white sheet under his head. The President narrows his eyes at the sight, but chooses not to comment.

"Lift your arms up, love." The Alpha instructs his son, and Alexander hesitantly raises both arms above his head, shivering as the green shirt is carefully lift off.

God, it is _worse_ than George thought.

His puppy's normally pale skin is layered with black and blue bruising, most in the shape of fingers. George snarls at the implications the injuries bring to his mind, hoping that he was wrong. Gashes crisscross Alexander's back and stomach, some deep and infected looking, others scabbed over. Dried trails of crimson are layered on the broken skin, the dark liquid sliding farther down Alex's body as he sits there, hiding his dark eyes behind his hair as though ashamed.

It takes George a second to compose himself, to shake away the instincts screaming at him to _protect protect protect_ , shaking as he fights for control.

Once he has calmed down, the Alpha gently takes his son's face in his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over the purple bruise covering Alexander's high cheekbone. His pup hisses in pain, flinching back, but the President doesn't let go. They stare at each other for a few seconds, the President sending all the love he feels for his child through their gazes, before George kisses Alex on the forehead and releases him.

"Can the Nurses come back in now, Alexander?" George asks as the Omega leans back carefully against the headboard once more, wincing at the pressure.

The 12 year old glances at the white barrier separating him and his father from the Secret Service Members standing guard outside. He seems to contemplate the question for a few seconds, dark brows drawn down in concentration, before giving a confirmative nod.

With one final kiss laid gently on the dark locks, the Alpha walks the few feet to the opening in the clothe. His sharp ears catch every word being uttered by the Agents and Nurses. Taking a deep breath, George sniffs for any threats, and finding none, opens the barrier. All Secret Service Members jump to attention, ears erect as they wait for any order to come their way.

But the President isn't looking at them, instead his gaze is zoned on a Doctor that smells of chemicals and bleach. The man was talking with Steven, Alex's file being examined between them, but pauses when he notices George. Giving a small nod at the Alpha nurse, the Doctor walks over to George, making sure to keep his ears folded back in submission.

"Mr. President," The Doctor says once he gets closer, holding out his hand for the Alpha to shake. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir."

The Commander looks him over, noting his deep blue eyes covered by a pair of wire rimmed glasses, and wavy red hair that settles right below his shoulders. His scent reeks of Omega, tail swishing as George takes he offered hand in his own, giving it a firm shake.

"The pleasure is all mine." George says, trying to keep his tone light as he hears Alex shift on his bed from behind the curtain, his pain filled scent seeping from underneath the white clothe.

"Before we go take care of your pup, sir, I just want to reassure you that I will do everything in my power to help Alexander, both mentally and physically, in his recovery." Seeing he still has the President's attention, the Doctor continues, "I have over 20 years of experience working with abused children, both Alpha and Omega, and approach every case with the confidence that we can help Alex deal with his injuries, as well as the mental trauma we know he is experiencing."

The Omega nods once he finishes speaking, shifting from foot to foot as he waits for permission from George to step into the closed off section of the room. Mulligan steps up from behind the Doctor, giving him a once over before walking behind the curtain, holding it open for the President and the other Omega. The ginger is about to enter when he is stopped by George's hand on his arm.

"You never did tell me your name." The Alpha says, ears twitching.

Giving a small chuckle, the Omega points to his name tag as he speaks.

"Franklin. Dr. Ben Franklin."

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! I am going to try to update every Saturday and Wednesday, so keep a look out! Don't forget to R &R:)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this is kind of late, I had a really long day at school and was really tired. I will try to update earlier Saturday, so have no fear! I hope you enjoy Chapter 7!:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Hamilton: An American Musical._**

 ** _Trigger Warning for mentions of child abuse and Non-Con!_**

Giving a huff, George nods and walks through the clothe, nostrils flaring as Alexander's scent fills his nose once more. His son was sitting right where he had left him, his bloodshot eyes wandering around the room, before coming to rest on the Alpha as he walks in.

The President goes to his side, cooing softly into the 12 year old's ear when he flinches at the sight of Dr. Franklin. The Omega, upon catching a whiff of George's protective scent, lowers his eyes as he slowly inches closer, Alex's file held lightly in his hands.

"It is okay, Alexander. I'm Dr. Benjamin Franklin. I just want to look at your back and stomach, and see what we can do for your pain." The Doctor says, tail curling around his leg as he stops in front of both Washingtons.

The young Omega swallows, throat clicking as he glances up at Ben through his lashes, ears twitching. Finally, he speaks.

"Will it hurt?"

George tenses against the onslaught of emotions he feels well up inside him at the innocent question, not wanting to think about how much pain his baby had to suffer through the past 3 months. Dr. Franklin's ears fold back when he speaks, a frown of worry spreading across his face.

"No, it will not hurt Alex, I can assure you."

Alexander looks once at his father, George giving his baby a soothing smile as a soft growl rumbles in his chest. The Doctor walks closer once he gets a nod from the 12 year old, pulling on his blue latex gloves, and grabbing a skin friendly disinfecting wipe from the table behind George.

"Mr. President, I am going to need you to go to Alexander's other side please." The Doctor says, placing Alex's chart on the hook behind the bed.

George doesn't complain as he walks around the cot, his baby grabbing his hand when he gets closer. Franklin slowly raises his hand to Alexander's eye level, knowing that the younger Omega was jumpy and skittish right now.

"Would you mind laying on your back for me Alex?" Ben asks, making sure to keep his scent open and honest.

Alexander's heart monitor speeds up slightly, the red line jumping up and down in time with his uneven breath. His brown eyes close tight as he fights down his fear, a quiet whine sliding from his mouth. George snarls in response, his hold on his child's hand tightening, but he makes no move to attack the Doctor.

"It will help me make you feel better," Ben tries, hand tentatively reaching out to brush against the 12 year old's shoulder.

Alex doesn't flinch, eyes cracking open when he catches Benjamin's Omega scent. His small nostrils flare, brows furrowing in slight confusion and shock. George tenses, mussels tightening in case Alexander shows any sign of fear. But that doesn't seem to be the case.

Finally, after a few painstaking seconds, Alexander slowly lowers himself down onto the white sheets.

"Good, that is very good son." The President praises, feeling his heart swell at his baby's small smile of satisfaction.

"Yes, yes, excellent job Alex." Dr. Franklin agrees, eyes bright with happiness for the first time that day.

The Omega begins his examination, poking at the young boy's ribs feeling for the tell tale sign of broken bones. He finds a bump on Alexander's right side, pressing softly with 2 fingers, causing the Omega to cry out at the sudden sharp pain. The President shivers at the sound, dark ears folding back at his child's distress. Ben frowns in concern, pressing the skin around the bump, feeling for more breaks. Finding none, he tuts quietly, pushing his glasses farther up his nose as his eyes narrow in concentration.

"Definitely broken. Sit up for me, Alex, slowly please, so we don't disturb the area any more than we have to."

George watches the process closely, sniffing the air every few seconds as the muffled voices of the Secret Service Members filter through the thin fabric.

After applying bandages to the small Omega's chest, as well as wiping down the bothersome cut on his forehead which thankfully did not need stitches, the Doctor turns his attention to the child's back.

Alex sits up again, turning around fully to expose the open flap on the back of the dressing gown. Ben feels his heart sink at the layers of gashes and bruising now exposed for both the President and the Doctor to see.

 _"Oh_ _my baby. . . "_ The medical personnel hears Washington breath out, knowing that the President was so close to losing control for the third time that day. Even through George had already seen the damage, the sight of it was still enough to make him want to _kill._

"Sir," Ben suddenly says, startling the Alpha from his thoughts as he blinks at the Omega, eyes glazed over in rage. "Did you know about the extent of the damage before today?"

George snarls in fury, hair standing on end at the implications of that question, taking a threatening step toward the Doctor. Franklin is quick to hold his hands up in a gesture of innocence, fighting the urge to bare his neck at the spark of dominance oozing from the enraged Commander.

"It is only protocol that I ask that sir." The Omega is quick to point out, breathing out a silent sigh of relief when George backs off. "I know that you would never hurt your child."

"I would rather die." The Alpha says, voice hard and Ben believes him completely.

The Doctor clears his throat, tail flicking left and right as he fights to get himself under control again. Alexander watches them, dark eyes lingering on his Daddy longer than he is focused on Benjamin, small fingers clutching his sheet with a death grip.

George leans down, gently kissing his baby's dark locks as Alexander relaxes under his comforting scent. Ben fidgets, wringing his hands as he waits for the President to comfort his son and get himself reeled back in. After a few seconds of silence does the Omega speak.

"Alright, now that we have that settled, I am going to take a closer look at your ba-"

But that is as far as Dr. Franklin gets, the head of a Secret Service Member poking through the white barrier interrupting his sentence. The woman's face is slightly apologetic, but her voice is all business.

"I am very sorry to interrupt Alexander's examination, sir, but you are needed out here for a few moments."

George sighs, cupping his baby's face in his large hands. Tears slowly flow from the Omega's eyes as protests start to fall from his lips, but the Alpha shushes him, his thumbs brushing the liquid that slides down Alex's pale face.

"I will be right back sweetheart, I promise." The Commander says, glancing at Ben once before turning back to his child, " Dr. Franklin will be here the whole time, and if you need me, just yell and I will come running."

The 12 years old whines, but allows George to release him and walk away from the bed, the President looking back once before vanishing through the white clothe.

"This had better be important." He says, voice a deep growl, causing Jim to take a cautious half step back.

The Director seems to gather his thoughts, but what he says next makes the Commander's heart lighter than it has been for days.

"Mr. President, the First Lady is waiting outside, and I believe she is getting quiet impatient."

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys! I told you this chapter was going to be published early. ;) Martha makes an appearance in this Chapter, yay! \o/ I hope you enjoy Chapter 8, and don't forget to tell me what you think!:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Hamilton: Am American Musical._**

 ** _Trigger Warning for talk of child abuse and Non-Con!_**

"-are going to let me into that room this instant, Mike! I am the First Lady of the United States of America, and my _child_ is being looked over after being _abused,_ so I will ask you one more tim-"

Martha Washington was standing outside the door when George walks out, her back to him as she stands as tall as her 5"0 height would allow, one red painted nail pointing furiously into the chest of a Service Member.

The President stops, dark ears standing alert as the Agent makes a move to gently back the First Lady away from the door, but freezes when he catches sign of the Alpha.

"Mr. President." Standing straight once again, the sunglass clad Omega steps away from Martha as she turns slowly around.

Her brown hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail, some wisps escaping and floating around her head as though in slow motion. Brown eyes, losing the fire that burned just a second ago, widen in shock, tears filling the orbs as she steps toward George, tail tucked between her legs and hands shaking in distress as she catches her mate's scent for the first time in days.

" _George_. . . " The Omega breathes out, wrapping her arms tight around the President's neck, inhaling deeply.

The Alpha folds his strong arms around her, burying his face in her hair as she trembles below him. A soft rumble builds in his chest, the sound vibrating against Martha cheek as she nuzzles his chest, the cotton soft on her makeup clad face.

They stand there for a few moments, George kissing his wife's head every few seconds as she sighs. Finally, he gently pulls away, cupping her face in his large hands as she looks up at him. Pressing one last kiss to her lips, the Alpha starts to lead her into their son's room, but is stopped by her whisper.

"Before we go in, I need-George, how bad is it? I mean-" Giving a huff, the First Lady tries to get her thoughts together as Alexander's scent fills her nostrils, eyes darkening in anger and despair at his pain. George brushes his thumb slowly over her hip, pulling her closer as he waits for her to finish.

"Is he going to be okay?" She finally asks, voice weaker than the Alpha has ever heard it.

He snarls silently, mentally killing the bastards responsible for causing his family pain. But his voice is gentle when he speaks.

"Yes, yes Martha, Alex is going to be fine. He is in pain right now, and scared, but he is _safe,_ and that is the best we can do for him right now."

The Omega swallows, arms tightening around her husband's neck. George wipes her tears away with his thumb, lips brushing her forehead gently.

"Are you ready to go in now, sweetheart?"

Getting a nod in response, the President leads them into the hospital room, General Mulligan giving the First Lady a warm smile and a quick hug when they walk in. Martha smiles back in to the other Omega, but it doesn't reach her eyes, her focus immediately zoning onto the white clothe surrounding Alexander's bed.

Hesitating for a fraction of a second, Martha, followed closely by George, opens the flap to enter the barrier, and slips almost silently inside.

She stops as soon as she enters.

A whine falls from the female Omega's throat as her eye lock with Alexander's, the 12 year old freezing in the middle of a gesture, Dr. Franklin quickly introducing himself to Martha before stepping to the side.

"Mommy!" The young Omega says, flinching as he tries to lift himself out of the bed.

Martha all but runs to him, ears folded back as she clutches him to her chest, sobs raking both mother and son. Rocking Alex side to side, the First Lady sniffs her boy over, the smell of pain and fear making her feel sick. George comes to Alexander's other side, wrapping his arms around both of them, a growl vibrating his chest. Kissing both of their heads, the Alpha suddenly wishes Gilbert was there, something deep inside him needing all 3 of his pack members there.

Martha pulls away, brushing her fingers through her puppy's dark locks as the Omega leans into her touch. Her eyes scan his face, taking in the bruising that trail down beneath his hospital gown, a snarl ripping her beautiful face into something deadly and dangerous.

As suddenly as it appeared, the anger was gone, George suspecting she pushed it back for later as he had done a million times in the last few hours. Kissing the top of Alexander's forehead, she begins speaking to him in a whispers, nodding when the puppy responds In kind, the President choosing to let them have a second to calm down. Turning away from his mate and baby, the Alpha motions Ben closer with a quick flick of his wrist.

"I finished looking at his back while you were out, sir." The Doctor says, head lowering as through he was afraid of George's angry response.

But the Alpha is anything but. Letting out a relieved breath, he walks to the window, quickly snapping the blinds fully closed against the glare of the setting sun, the light still peaking through making the room glow in a slight orange tinge. Out of the corner of his eyes, George sees his pup watch his steps, his head still resting on Martha's chest. His wife was still stroking his head, humming lowly into Alex's twitching ear.

"Thank you for doing that Doctor." The President says, startling the Omega from his thoughts a couple of steps away. "I was really worried about his reaction, and am deeply reassured that my child trusts you to not hurt him when I am not around."

Ben coughs, clearing his throat as he walks to stand next to the Alpha.

"I can only hope that we can continue to make progress such as this in the days to come." Ben says, his gloves making a sharp _popping_ sound as he takes them off, the blue latex disappearing into the trashcan a second later.

Both men are quiet, George listening to the tell tale sign of Alexander's deep breathing, his suspicions confirmed when he glances back at the Omegas curled up on the bed.

Alexander was sleeping deeply, one small hand clutching Martha's purple shirt, the other trapped by the First Lady's long fingers. His soft hair covers the top of his mother's chest as he cuddles closer to her, a whine slipping between his closed lips as he shifts. Martha shushes him, stroking his bruised cheek as she kisses each closed eye lid, licking his black and blue bruises the same way George did earlier. Alex's heart monitor beeps with a slow, steady rhythm, the red line blinking in time with his baby's breaths. Sensing the two pairs of eyes on them, the First Lady looks up, dark eyes filling with an emotion the President cannot place.

 _He is sleeping._ Martha mouths, pulling the white sheet tighter around the tiny bundle in her lap. The Alpha gives her a nod, lips lifting into a soft smile at the sight of both of them nice and warm.

Franklin finishes washing his hands in the sink, carefully drying his hands with a paper towel as he pads to check the 12 year old's machines one last time. Finding no problems, the Doctor grins gently at the First Lady and the youngest Washington, ears twitching as Martha speaks tenderly.

"Thank you Doctor."

Feeling humble, Ben waves his hand, fighting down his emotions at the gratitude he can feel from the other Omega. Taking a few steps back, he responds just as quietly.

"You are more than welcome ma'm."

Seeing that Martha was occupied once again, the Medical Professional turns back to the President. George's brown eyes are soft with love, jaw clenched as he feels his Alpha instincts kick into high gear at the sight of 2 of his 3 Omegas protected and _safe._

Ben clears his throat again, watching with slight fascination at the way the Commander's face snapped back into business mode once more. Seeing that he has the Alpha's attention, Franklin begins to whisper for only his ears only.

"I am going to make my rounds now, Mr. President. Alexander should sleep for a good 6 to 7 hours, the morphine being given to him making sure of that. If you need anything at all, just press the red button on the foot of Alex's bed and I will be notified as soon as I am needed. Your two main Nurses, Mary and Steven, will check on your pup every 2 hours, just to check that his equipment is running smooth and that he is stable."

Taking a deep breath, Ben is startled by the feel of George's warm hand on his shoulder. The President gives him a thankful smile, squeezing the muscle.

"If we have any problems, we will be sure to contact you. There is no one else I would rather have look at my child."

"Th-thank you, sir." The Doctor stutters, feeling his face heat up slightly at the praise from the Alpha. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, the Omega begins to gather his things for his exit.

Giving his shoulder one last squeeze, George walks to his wife, breathing out a deep breath as he hears Franklin leave, his scent quickly starting to become stale as the clothe eases its motion.

Martha moves over once the President stands at her side, making room on the small cot for the 3 of them to snuggle up close, George feeling the wolf residing under his skin calm at the closeness of his family, a prang of loss that Laf was not with them clutching at his heart.

"I want to _kill_ them, George." Martha suddenly whispers, voice sharp with rage. "I want them to hurt just like they hurt our baby. I never though I would ever want something as evil as that, but God, I want to make them pay. . . "

The Alpha tugs both Omegas closer, feeling the bed squeak under their combined weight. Alexander's grip moves from his Mommy to his Daddy, the President's blue shirt wrinkling in his small fist. George kisses both his wife's and his son's cheeks, Alex's dark brows drawing together at the feeling.

"That isn't evil, honey. Wanting revenge is natural, as much a part of our biology as our eye color, or our tails. You have no idea how much I want to find the fuckers, and make them responsible for their actions. . ." George has to stop talking for a second, feeling a snarl curl his lips. It takes a minute for him to continue. "Our puppy was hurt, and nothing we do can ever change that, no matter how much we want it to. But we cannot focus on what we _could_ have done differently, instead we should think about what we can do _now._ "

They are both silent for a while, the light from the window finally dying out, leaving the room lit by only Alexander's machines, and a small lamp on the corner table.

Mulligan pokes his head in, holding a tray with 3 turkey sandwiches and 3 glasses of water. Seeing the sleeping 12 year old, and the almost asleep parents, the General gently sets the tray down on the dresser, giving the President a nod at the thanks he gets. Looking back once, Jim walks back out, the sound of a chair being pulled in front of the entrance of the barrier and the thump of a body falling into it loud in the quiet of the room.

"What are we going to do now?" Martha whispers, voice uncertain, and body shuddering.

George grips her hand tightly, putting the combined digits protectively over their baby as he shifts. His voice is choked with pain that does not need to be confirmed.

"Right now, sweetheart, right now we take care of our son, and find the bastards that did this to him, as soon as possible."

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for such the long wait, but school and work are taking their toll on me and I am really tired XD. Thank you for sticking with me and I promise the next Chapter will be up much sooner!:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Hamilton_** **:** ** _An_** ** _American_** ** _Musical_** **.**

 **Trigger Warning For Talk Of Child Abuse!**

They are quiet after that, breaths falling in sink with their sleeping child. George can still smell Lee and Jane's scent on Alex when he kisses his forehead, nostril flaring at the reminder of what they still need to figure out. The Omega shifts once more, curling tighter against his mother's chest as he sighs. The President tenses, waiting for any sign of pain, but none comes. Martha squeezes his hand lightly, resting her head on top of Alexander's dark locks as she starts to lightly dose.

A movement in the corner of his eyes catches the Alpha's attention, head whipping around, and body springing to cover both his Omega's sleeping bodies as the white clothe is pulled aside.

"Excuse me, Mr. President, but I have some extra clothes for you all to change into when you get a chance." His secretary, a young Alpha named David, holds up a gray duffle-bag as he speaks, making sure to keep his eyes lowered as he catches the Commander's heightened scent.

George huffs at himself, feeling foolish for overreacting, but knows that the wolf inside him is on full alert, and will continue to protect his Pack Members for as long as it will take. Glancing down at his sleeping mate and son, the President carefully slips out of the bed, pressing a kiss to each of their heads as they both whimper as his scent gets farther away.

"Thank you, David." George says, taking the bag from the younger Alpha. Ignoring his instincts telling his to stand protectively in front of both Omegas, the President shifts from foot to foot, scratching the back of his neck as he feels his face heat up. "I am sorry for acting like a-ah, what's the word?"

"A protective, possessive Alpha?" David supplies, letting out a small chuckle as his boss blushes even harder, feeling embarrassed even as his chest subconsciously puffs up in pride. "It is fine sir, I understand that your instincts are impossible to ignore. I mean, you should have seen me when I was first bonded to Shawn. We couldn't even go out to dinner without me snarling at everyone and everything. He never lets me live it down."

George huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as David smiles softly, thinking of his Omega. A noise from the bed catches both of their attention and the President immediately turns around, ears swiveling to catch any other sound that is made.

But it is just Martha moving Alex to a more comfortable position, the First Lady's eyes still closed and breaths still even. George stares at them for a second longer, trying to calm his racing heart and retract his claws. Seeing that nothing was wrong, the President turns back to David, making a motion with his free hand as though he wants to apologize. The younger male waves him off, taking a step back as he speaks.

"You can get back to your family now, Mr. President. If you need anything else from the White House, just let me know."

"Thank you." The Commander says, giving his secretary a nod as the other Alpha shuts the curtain behind him.

Adjusting his grip on the bag, George walks back over to the bed, stopping next to Martha, love flaring up in his dark eyes as he takes in the scene before him.

His wife clutches Alexander to her chest, lovingly breathing in his sweet scent as she sleeps. Their baby is holding her back just as tight, snuggling closer every few seconds, injuries seaming to finally dull in their throbbing. The President hates to wake her, but he needs to get them both changed.

Reaching down, the Alpha gently kisses her cheek, feeling her long eyelashes flutter on his face as she stirs. Her eyes are instantly alert once they open, and she makes a move as to sit up. She stops, however, when Alex whimpers, instead choosing to grip George's shirt collar in her thin fingers. Her breath is hot against his cheek as she kisses him, lips soft and warm against his.

"David brought us clothes from home," the President says once they break apart, relishing in the high color on his mate's cheekbones, a deep rumble filling his chest as Alex sniffs, nuzzling Martha's shirt. "Do you want to go get changed while I sit with Alexander, or do you want me to go first?"

The First Lady gestures to the 12 year old in her lap, raising one perfectly trimmed eyebrow as she answers.

"I don't think I could move even if I wanted to."

George smirks, kissing both of their foreheads. Once he knows that there are no problems, the Alpha walks to the open door near the window. A peak inside shows a white bathroom with a walk in shower, the curtain a light yellow that is bright in the plain interior. Cream colored towels hang on racks near the sink, some folded for use after showering. The whole room smells slightly of fake flowers and chemicals.

Glancing back once more, taking in the sight of his sleeping baby and tired wife, the President blows his Omegas one last kiss before stepping into the other room. Closing the oak door except for a crack, George sets the bag down on the toilet seat lid, flipping the light on as he goes.

The white light blinds him for a second, and the Commander blinks, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down as he waits for his eyes to adjust. Once the black spots fade does the Alpha unzip his bag and pull out his fleas pants and a plain white shirt. Digging deeper, the Alpha pulls out a smaller pink bag, finding a razor, 3 tooth brushes, some deodorant, a brush and toothpaste enclosed. He sets it on the shelf to the left of the mirror.

George tugs the soft pants on, stuffing his work clothes into the bottom of the gray carrying case, setting his mate's clothes on top. As the President begins the slow task of unbuttoning his blue shirt, he takes a second to study himself in the mirror.

Dark circles stand out from under his red eyes, skin ashy and gray in the white light. His face is covered with the beginning of a 5 o'clock shadow and his teeth are sharp when he opens his mouth. All in all, he looks as much like a President as the moon looks like the sun.

Shaking his head at himself, George pulls work shirt from his shoulders and sets it on the edge of the sink. After tugging his night shirt over his head, he turns the water on warm, rinsing his face a few times to get rid of the groggy feeling starting to fog his brain, knowing he will need to stay up to keep watch over his Pack.

After drying the water from his face, George lets his gaze fall to the wrinkled shirt sitting on the counter, small droplets of red standing out against the blue material.

 _Alexander's_ _blood_.

Suddenly it is to much. Grabbing the shirt in trembling hands, George frantically tries to scrub his child's blood out of the cotton, the white marble turning pink after a few seconds. Strangled gasps make their way out of the President's mouth as he fights for control, body shuttering as tears fill his eyes, making his own reflection a blurred blob.

Finally he gives up, his hands rubbed raw in the scalding water, shirt soaked through and dripping now clean water down the side of the sink, forming a pool on the tile floor. The Alpha is breathing heavy, choked sobs being forced out through clenched teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he trembles.

A knock at the door startles the President, causing him to jump, growling softly at his weakness.

"George, is everything ok?" Martha calls softly through the door, scent worried and so beautiful.

George tries to answer, but his voice sticks in his throats and he can't speak. His tail flicks around in anger and frustration.

"Geor-oh, _honey_. . . " His wife opens the door slowly, eyes widening as she takes in her Alpha's tear streaked face and red hands.

She walks quickly over, heals tapping a steady rhythm against the hard floor. George turns his face away when she gets close, feeling ashamed because he needs to be _strong_ and an _Alpha_ for her and Alex, and Alphas don't cry or lose control, and certainly not the _President of the United States of America_. . .

Martha turns the tap off, the sound of running water stopping suddenly and leaving them in relative quiet, broken only by Alexander's machines and the _drip drip drip_ of the water hitting the floor from the wet shirt. Reaching up to cup the Commander's jaw in her hands, her frown deepening when she spots the tear tracks on her husband's face. George's dark ears fall back as their eyes meet.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" The Omega asks softly, feeling her mate grab her waist with shaking hands.

"I-I was- there was blood- _Alex's_ _blood-_ on my shirt, and I needed to get it off, Martha. I needed to get our puppy's blood off my shirt because it is my fault he is hurt _, and I needed to get it off!"_ George sobs out the last part, feeling a part of him break as he thinks of his baby and how scared he is.

The First Lady shushes him, forcing his chin up when he starts to look down again. Her voice is firm when she speaks.

"It is not your fault, George Washington. Did you make those people hurt Alexander?" The Alpha shakes his head no, and Martha continues, "Did you force them to bruise his skin and break his bones?" The Omega answers for him before he even opens his mouth, "No, you did not. So I do not want to hear you blame anyone but the bastards that did! It is not your fault that Alex was so helpless, and it never will be."

The President pulls away suddenly, his grip on his wet work shirt tight enough to drip more water in the already large puddle on the floor. His face is a mask of pain, and Martha feels her breath catch in despair at the sight.

"He shouldn't have to feel helpless! I should be in there protecting both of you, but instead, I am in here crying over a few drops of blood like some overgrown pup! I am an _Alpha,_ and I need to be strong and not show any weakness, especially not now."

The Omega places her cool hand on his arm, kneading the tense mussels until George sighs, letting go of the shirt so it falls into the drained sink. Wrapping her arms around his neck, the First Lady presses her head against the President's chest, the sound of his heartbeat filling her ears. His arms wrap around her, engulfing her in his scent as their tails entwine.

"You can show weakness around me, George. I love you so much, and I cannot stand the though of you beating yourself up over what you cannot change." She repeats his earlier works back to him, "'We cannot focus on what we _could_ have done differently, instead we should think about what we can do _now.'_ and that applies to you as well."

"But I am an _Alpha_. . . " The President protests, the argument sounding weak even to his own ears. Martha's voice is a whisper against his chest when she talks.

"I do not care if you are the King of the whole world, everyone needs to let go at some point. Showing weakness, and acting on it is what makes us _human_."

 **A/N: I really need to stop ending my Chapters with dialogue lol. Thank you for taking the time to read and don't forget to review!:)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey guys! Nothing really major happens in this Chaoter, so it is a little on the short side. Keep a look out for the next one though, because it is a game changer!;) I hope you enjoy Chapter 10!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not** **own** **Hamilton: An** **American** **Musical**.

George chooses not to respond, instead letting his arms tighten around his mate as he sniffs the last of his tears away. After a few seconds, the Alpha pulls away, giving his wife one last kiss on the top of her head.

"Are you feeling better now?" Martha asks him, brown eyes sharp as they study his face once more.

"Much better now that you are here." George says quietly, watching as the First Lady pauses in pulling off her tights. "I honestly don't know what I would do without you, honey."

"Well, you definitely wouldn't get anything cleaned around the house, that's for sure." The Omega quirks one eyebrow, hand reaching out to gently wrap around her Husband's, palm warm and soft.

George smirks, squeezing her hand lightly before taking a few steps back to allow her to finish undressing. Padding quietly to the slightly open door, the President peaks his head out, taking in the sight of his child's mop of dark hair spread out over his pillow, a small stream of drool slipping past his closed lips.

The Alpha smiles softly, planning to implant the image in his minds eye for the hard days ahead. Taking a deep breath and grinning, George turns back into the bathroom.

Martha has her back to him, her light purple dress still zipped shut in the back.

"Is Alexander all right with us not being out there?" The President asks, watching as Martha lifts out her night clothes from the top of the bag, setting them on the towel rack.

Turning around, the First Lady moves her dark hair out of the way, exposing the top of her zipper. George, already knowing the cue from over 10 years of marriage, takes the metal piece gently between his two fingers, slowly pulling it down as the Omega talks over her shoulder.

"He is sleeping so deeply, I don't think a herd of elephants could wake him up." Stepping out of the tight clothe, Martha shoves it in the bag along with George's clothes, and pulls on her night shirt. "Besides, with all of the Agents standing guard outside, no one is getting in this room without getting interrogated by at least 20 different people."

The President doesn't argue, knowing that in theory his wife is right, but he can't seem to shake the feeling of agitation that is making his skin feel to tight, resisting the urge to pace around Alex's bed.

Shaking himself, the Alpha stands to the side as Martha finishes getting changed. His heart freezes when she holds up his wrinkled blue shirt, eyes widening when she throws it into the trash with more force than necessary. He makes a move as to grab it, but she blocks him with her smaller body.

"We don't need that reminder around anymore. It has caused you pain, and unnecessary guilt, and will stay where it belongs."

Her voice is so convincing that George doesn't even try to argue, feeling a piece of him become lighter as he finally starts to let go of his guilt. Feeling suddenly restless, the Alpha starts to fold the hand towel back up, needing to do something with his hands before he embarrasses himself even more.

"George," Martha says suddenly around a mouthful of toothpaste, the thin plastic of the hospital toothbrush making her voice somewhat muffled, "When you get any information on Lee or Jane, you are going to tell me right? I mean, this isn't going to be another classified thing you have to keep hidden?"

Her ears fold back as if embarrassed, a red tinge settling high on her cheeks, but George just thinks she is adorable. Once she rises her mouth, the President pads over to stand in front of her, reaching down to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Even if I have to jeopardize Nation Security, I will never keep anything about this hidden from you."

His Omega lets out a relieved breath at her Husband's soft voice, taking a second to zip up the pink bag still sitting on the shelf. George, after smiling against her hair and giving her a peck on the cheek, waits for her to finish up, walking over to stand near the door.

The First Lady takes her time cleaning the makeup from her skin, the sink turning black from the mascara and eyeliner. She seems to need this time to calm down, to gather her thoughts while Alex is not panicking and crying. The Alpha lets her, taking the time to study her profile while she works, breathing in her and Alexander's combined scents.

Martha turns off the water for the final time after about 10 minutes, setting down her brush, and drying her hands on the folded towel laying on the sink. Her face, when she turns around, is rubbed raw around her eyes, a small smudge of makeup still sitting on the corner of her nose. The Commander wipes it off with his finger when she gets closer, the Omega sighing and leaning into the gesture, eyes sparkling with love.

It is a nice calm during the hectic storm that has become their life, both adults knowing that once their child wakes up once more, it will have become a distant memory.

They do not speak once as they walk out of the bathroom, flicking the light off as they go, casting the room in slight darkness once more. No words are needed as they curl up next to their baby again, one on either side as to protect him from outside forces. There are muffled voices from outside the white clothe, but the couple pays them no mind, knowing that they will be doing a lot of talking in the next few hours.

George sniffs one last time, taking the extra second to make sure his family is safe before closing his eyes, and falling asleep, curling protectively around his 2 Omegas, ears still twitching for any hint of a threat. Martha follows her mate soon after, running her fingers through her son's long hair before they go limp in exhaustion.

It is quiet after that, the Hospital seeming to breathe out a sigh of its own as things begin to calm down for the night.

Hours later, however, George is woken up by the most shocking news yet.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey guys! Here is Chapter 11! I hope you enjoy:)**

Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.

The sunlight is blinding from where it shines through the cracks in the shades, bright spots dancing along the cream colored walls. George blinks his eyes open, sitting up so fast he can hear his back crack. A snarl curls his lips as he takes in the sight of Director Meeks standing a few feet away from their sleeping forms, the shorter body of General Mulligan a little ways behind him, his face serious and apologetic.

The Director had his hand out as though he was getting ready to touch the President's shoulder, but retracts it quickly at the sight of the other Alpha's sharp teeth.

"I'm sorry for waking you up, sir, but I have some ne-" The Director begins, but is cut off by a small voice coming from George's left, Alexander blinking his groggy eyes against the white light of the sun.

"Daddy?" The small Omega asks, curling his fingers around his father's clenched fist. "What's going on?"

Turning away from Meeks, the Alpha smiles softly at his child, giving his forehead a quick kiss as he feels Martha sit up on Alex's other side, her ears perking up as she catches sight of the two other people in their room. George shares a glance with his wife, knowing that his expression of dread is mirrored in her dark eyes.

"Nothing is wrong, sweetheart." The President reassures the 12 year old, gently throwing the covers from his legs over Alexander body when he shivers. "Why don't you try to sleep for a little longer?"

But the Omega shakes his head, sitting up and leaning against his mother as his ribs protest at the movement. His stomach suddenly growls so loud that even Jim smirks, the General stifling a snicker as he glances at the in-eaten sandwiches sitting on the dresser. George gives him an apologetic look, climbing out of the bed as his wife grins lightly.

"I'm hungry." Alex says, a confused frown drawing his brows down when his parents laugh. "What?"

Shaking her head, Martha smooths down his bed head, the youngest Washington leaning into her touch as he sighs. Her voice is bright with amusement when she speaks.

"Nothing, love, do you want some breakfast?"

Getting a nod from her son, the First Lady reaches down and presses the red button on the foot of Alexander's bed. Seeing that both Omegas are fine for the time being, the President squeezes both of their hands, before starting the trek to the bathroom. Director Meeks walks at his heel, voice like rough sandpaper on the Alpha's ears.

"Sir- wait, Mr. President, I need to tell you something important! Sir-"

Rounding on the other Alpha, George growls, feeling his tail snap behind him in annoyance. His dark ears are pinned against his head, white teeth flashing.

"Give me a second, Director! I need to change and make sure my family is fed before I can concentrate, so stop with the chatter, and make sure my Pack gets breakfast."

Meeks swallows, giving the Commander a salute.

"Yes sir." He says, turning away once George releases him, shifting from foot to foot in agitation when he stops beside General Mulligan.

The Omega looks sharply at the President, knowing instinctively that he is in charge while the Alpha dresses. Giving his boss a nod in understanding, Mulligan walks over to the First Lady and Alexander, his voice becoming muffled once George closes the bathroom door.

"Ma'm, could I get you or Alexander anything to drink, some juice or milk-"

Changing quickly into a white button down shirt and black dress pants, the President brushes his teeth and washes his face. He is just tightening his green and blue striped tie when a knock at the door sounds. Growling softly to himself, George whips around and throws the door open, causing Jim to jump back in shock, the Alpha's phone almost slipping from his grip.

"Y-you left this in the car, sir." The General stutters, placing a hand over his chest pocket to try and calm his racing heart.

George steps fully out of the room, taking the electronic device as he goes. Thanking the Omega over his shoulder, the Commander presses the center button, nearly groaning in dread at the sight of over 100 non-read emails. Shaking his head, he checks the time as he slips on his shoes.

 _8_ : _12 a.m._

Feeling the hum of exhaustion tingle through his body, the Alpha walks the short distance to Alex's cot, his work shoes tapping a slow rhythm against the tile floor. His son smiles around a mouthful of eggs as he nears, Martha chiding him to close his mouth and chew slower.

"Hi Dad." Alexander says once George stops at the foot of his bed, holding out his plate to the President, much to his amusement. "Do you want some eggs?"

"Alexander Washington!" The First Lady scolds, thrusting the offered plate back into her baby's lap. "You are going to finish your eggs even if I have to force feed them to you!"

Alex groans good naturally, scooping another mouthful into his mouth at the look Martha shoots him. George snickers in amusement, grabbing his own plate of eggs from the tray on the nightstand, nearly moaning in delight as the cheese flavor settles on his tongue.

His finishes his food in record time, face turning pink when he sees his wife smirk behind her cup of coffee. Taking a steaming mug from her when she holds it out, the Alpha sips it, feeling the hot liquid flow through his system, the caffeine giving him the extra boost he needed.

Alex tries to reach for a piece of buttered toast next to the eggs, but stops suddenly, bring one hand up to cover his forehead, wincing in pain as his forehead starts to sting beneath the bandages.

The gesture doesn't go unnoticed, George being quick to press the red button to summon Mary or Steven for the second time that morning. Ignoring Director Meeks as he steps closer, the President gently smooths his son's dark hair back as the 12 year old whimpers.

"Does your head hurt, sweetie?" The Alpha asks, watching as his wife takes the now empty plate from their child's clenched fist, grabbing Alexander's glass of water from the nightstand.

"Yes, and my back." Alex whimpers again, shifting on the bed as the morphine starts to wear off.

His mother holds his glass up to his dry lips, tilting it back as he takes grateful sips of the cold liquid.

"How long has it been hurting?" Martha asks once he finishes drinking, voice tight with worry.

Alexander shrugs, whining high in his throat as his ribs shriek in protest. Leaning back against his Mommy, the Omega takes deep breaths as he fight down the sudden nausea flowing through his system.

"Alexander, baby, you have to tell us when you are in pain. We can't help you if we don't know something is wrong."

But the youngest Washington doesn't respond, and George is forced to watch for the millionth time in two days as his baby grits his teeth through his pain. Martha shushes his cries, kissing his head and yipping into his ear every so often when he shivers.

George shifts closer, laying one large hand on top of his son's brown hair, running his fingers through the greasy locks as he growls softly. Alex just clenches his eyes shut, gripping the sleeve of his Daddy's white shirt tightly.

"Sir-" Director Meeks is suddenly there, standing so close to George's Omegas and reeking of Alpha that the President snaps.

Snarling, George moves to stand in front of his mate and puppy, blocking them from the Director's view. Standing up to his full height, the Alpha towers over the ginger, stepping close so that they are chest to chest. Sharp teeth flash as Meeks is pushed a few feet back, George's dark ears flattening against his head.

"I said, _not right now."_ George growls, shuddering as he fights for control.

Suddenly, the entrance is pulled open and the Alpha snarls again, but stops when he sees Mary walk into the room, carrying a bag of clear liquid in one hand, the other holding a pair of fresh white bandages. She says something to Martha, but the Commander doesn't catch it.

Leaving the other Alpha to gasp at his back, the President pads to stand next to his wife and child, dark tail snapping behind him in agitation. Ignoring the look the First Lady sends him, George sits stiffly on the side of Alex's bed, watching with slit pupils as the female Nurse changes his baby's I.V. bag.

The Commander tenses as Mary grabs Alexander's head bandages, but relaxes once she starts to slowly take them off. The Omega critters as the clothe is pulled off, sagging against Martha as through all his energy is spent. The First Lady holds him close, wrapping both arms around him. She breathes deeply at the sound, fighting for her own self control as she feels her material instincts peak higher with every pain filled whimper and whine. Groping blindly, she grabs her Alpha's hand tightly in her own, knowing that they both needed something to ground them.

Once all red stained cotton is pulled off, Mary applies more ointment to the long gash, giving a nod when she deems it satisfactory. Alexander flinches away from her touch for the first time, however, when she goes to re-wrap his head with fresh bandages. Pulling back slightly at Martha's warning growl, the female Alpha is quick to reassure both Mother and son.

"I am just applying fresh bandages, Alex. Nothing else, I promise. Okay?"

Once she gets a small "Yes." from the bundle in the First Lady's lap, the Nurse continues with her wrapping, making sure to go slow and talk it through for all 3 Washingtons in a low, soothing voice. Her scent, when George sniffs the air, is clean and non-threatening, and he relaxes slightly.

Once she is done, Mary cleans up, grabbing Alexander's chart from above their heads and making a quick mark with her red pen, before capping it and putting it back into her pocket. After placing the clipboard back on the hook, the female Alpha turns back to the family, speaking quietly when she notices Alex's dark eyes beginning to droop as the Morphine enters his system once again.

"Steven should be back to check on everything at around 10:15, but if you need anything before then, feel free to ask."

Smiling gratefully at the thanks she receives, the Nurse glances one more time at Alexander and his machines before brushing past both Jim and Meeks, and walking out.

Once her footsteps fade, and her scent stales, the Director steps hesitantly closer to the bed, folding his ears back and tucking his tail between his legs to show that he is not a threat. Stopping about 3 feet away from the President and the Omegas, Meeks clears his throat, holding his hands up in innocence when George turns sharply toward him.

"Mr. President, I really do need to tell you the news now, sir." The Alpha states, ears twitching when he hears his boss inhale sharply.

But what ever the Commander was about to say is cut off by the First Lady, her voice as sharp as glass when she speaks, shifting her son closer.

"George, please go see what is the matter. The Director has been asking you for the past 20 minuets, and you are still the President of the United States, no matter the circumstances."

"But I can't leave you and Ale-" The Alpha starts to protest, but Martha stops him before he finishes, voice softening.

"We will be fine for a few minutes, honey." Pressing a small kiss to her husband's palm, the Omega gently moving her child to a more comfortable position as he starts to snore quietly.

George sighs, glancing back once at his mate and son as he follows the Director out of the room and into the hall, stopping only once to speak quickly to Mulligan.

"Stand guard outside with Kevin and Mike. If you have any problems, or smell an fear-scent, come and get me immediately."

"Yes, sir!" Jim salutes, face serious, and once released, stands rigidly in front of the flap, arms crossed over his chest, metals flashing against the light from the window.

Sniffing the air one last time, George steps through the doorway and into the empty hall, the smell of chemicals making his eyes burn. Turning one ear toward the door, the President waits impatiently while Meeks paces in front of him. Finally, after a few seconds, the Alpha huffs in annoyance.

"If you dragged me out here so I can watch you walk around like some unsteady toddler, I am going back to my Pack."

The Commander turns around to leave, shaking his head at the other man's antics. He is stopped by the Director's hand on his arm, forcing him to turn around. George is about to snarl at him, but pauses before even drawing a breath.

Meek's face is pale, deep crevices lining his cheeks from frowning all day. His green eyes are bloodshot and surrounded by dark bags. His mouth opens and closes several times, face so close to the President's that he can smell the pot roast from dinner on his breath. The Alpha wrinkles his nose, trying in vain to pull away from the Director.

"Andrew?" The Commander tries using the man's first name, hoping to finally snap him out of it. "What the hell happened?"

It seems to do the trick, because the other Alpha lets out a deep breathe, one hand coming up to run through his thick red hair. His whole scent reeks of nervousness, and slight fear. George tenses at the smell, fighting the urge to run back into the hospital room and protect his family.

"Mr. President," Meeks begins, hands shaking as he clenches his fists at his sides, wrinkling the red sleeves even more. "I have some news about Jane and Lee-"

George cuts him off, gut clenching at the through of finally having the bastards in his grasp. "What did you find?"

The Directs shifts from foot to foot, not meeting the Alpha's eyes. His tail curls between his legs and he tries to make himself smaller. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks.

"Mr. President, we cannot find them." Meeks's scent curls around both Alphas, smelling of dread. "They are gone, sir."

George feels his blood go cold, eyes darkening as he comprehends the news. He feels anger and terror fill his stomach, simultaneously making him want to punch the wall, and cry until he pukes. He wishes for a fleeing moment that Martha was there, needing her comfort and grounding presence.

" _What?_ "

 **A/N: Thank you for reading and don't forget to comment:D**


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: **Here is Chapter 12! Sorry this is so late, I have been really busy with finals lately. I hope you guys enjoy:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.** ** _Trigger Warning_** ** _for talk of Child_** ** _Abuse and_** ** _Non-Con!_**

A couple of days pass.

George, after receiving the troubling news from Director Meeks, immediately orders the other Alpha to send out Search Parties, starting around the D.C area and moving into Northern Virginia. The President was going to find the fuckers even if it was the last thing he did.

The Director complies instantly, speaking rapidly into his nearly invisible head set, fingers flying over the keys on his phone. After a few minutes of ordering his agents, Meeks informed his boss that detectives are leaving as they speak, tracking the two criminals by scent and by sights from witnesses.

"We should find them within the next 48 hours or so, sir." The Alpha had said, ears twitching.

That was 5 days ago.

The Commander is getting restless, his body high strung and tense. He finds himself, alone, and in the middle of the night while the Hospital is all but a few whispers between curtains, pacing the floor around Alexander's bed. His claws tap against the tile floor, ears pricked and eyes scanning every corner of the room, as though invisible threats lurked in the pockets of darkness. His mate and child sleep deeply in the bed a few feet from him, their faces glowing in the pale light of the moon.

George knew that Martha suspected something, he could see the way his mate would gaze at him with worried brown eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. He had told her the news, of course, had taken her into the bathroom and spoken soothing words into her drawn back ears as she ranted and cried. But that was the last time she had sobbed about it, both of them knowing that they had to be strong for their boy.

Alexander's wounds were slowly healing, the harsh gashes and sever bruises starting to scab over, and fade. But the phycological symptoms are still brewing full force, forcing the young Omega to relive his horrors over and over again in the dead of night. No matter how much George and Martha held him and kissed away his tears, Alex still woke up screaming, trying to push away phantom attacks with his small claws.

It was a cloudy day. The rain that the weather man predicted a few hours ago coming down in sheets, small droplets tapping against the window as the trees fight an epic battle against the wind. George is never sure which one wins.

The Alpha is sitting on the edge of Alexander's cot, the First Lady resting against the headboard, both watching as a flash of lightning zips across the blackened sky, the sound of thunder following soon after, ripping the air in half with it's loud bass.

Their child is in the bathroom, taking a shower alone for the first time in days. The Omega had been cleaned, of course, but only with a supervisor, and never was aloud to stand up. Alex had thrown a fit when Dr. Franklin informed him of this arrangement, saying that he was old enough to wash himself, and not fall face first into the faucet. But the Doctor was insistent, informing the 12 year old of the consequences that would arise if he were to injure his ribs or head again.

 _A concussion,_ Ben had said, pulling his gloves off while the Washingtons watch him from the bed, _is not to be taken lightly, especially combined with your other troubles._

That statement had effectively stopped Alexander's complaints, and the 12 year old grudgingly accepted that he would not be bathing himself for the next few days, at least until his ribs were not as inflamed. Yesterday, after a gruesome 30 minutes of checking by the Doctor, Franklin had told the family that Alex could stand while showering, his brain showing no sign of swelling, and his ribs slowly healing. It would take another 5 and a half weeks for them to be completely fixed, but right now they celebrated every step in the right direction.

A movement out of the corner of his eye breaks the President's train of though. Turning away from the rain soaked window, George feels his heart fill with love as he takes in the sight of his baby standing in the bathroom doorway, a white towel being held tight around Alex's bruised waist as he shivers from the cold.

"Momma?" The Omega calls quietly, small droplets of water rolling down his arms from his soaked dark hair. "Can you help me with my clothes?"

He gestures to his ribs, where the outline of a shoe print could still be seen, as though someone had stomped on his chest as hard as they could. George still feels fury tingle his skin as he looks at it, but focuses on his child's face once again as his little boy shifts, tightening his hold on his towel.

Martha gently smiles at Alex, reaching out to squeeze her husband's hand when she lifts herself out of the bed. "Of course, baby. Did you already brush your teeth?"

Alexander nods as his mother steps around him, flipping on the bathroom light and leading her son inside. George continues to watch the door even after it has been softly closed, his ears barely catching the soft mutters of his Omegas through the wood before another clap of thunder drowns them out. Turning his attention back outside, the Commander watching the rain slide down the glass as he lets his thoughts wonder.

Gilbert was scheduled to arrive late tonight, his plane suffering a delay because of the weather. When the Alpha had called him, the Omega had been so happy he could barely speak, going off on a rampage only Alexander could understand. The 12 year old reassured his brother that he was getting better, and that Laf had better bring him back a t-shirt from France, otherwise he was going to be very angry. Gilbert had just laughed through his tears, telling Alex that he would bring everyone back one. The connection had started to break due to the distance and weather, so George was forced to end the call, all 3 of them making sure to tell the Omega that they loved him and would see him soon. Blowing kisses through the phone, the 15 year old wished them goodnight, then gently hung up.

Another flash of lighting zigzags through the clouds, hitting the ground so close to the Hospital that the President could see its' final resting place, the rumble that follows shaking the windowsill and vibrating through his skull. Glancing behind him, George turns toward the entrance just as Jim pokes his head in, startling at the Alpha's intense gaze.

"Mr. President, Dr. Nelson is here to see Alexander." The Omega says, and the Alpha slides off the bed.

Walking over, he smooths his slightly wrinkled blue shirt, making sure his red tie is straight as Mulligan opens the flap for him to step out.

Dr. Nelson is standing near the door when he walks out, her blond ears perking up when he comes closer. She steps forward eagerly, blue eyes bright as she takes the President's offered hand.

"Nice to see you again sir." She says as they walk back through the clothe, her clipboard held to her chest, papers crinkling.

"You as well, Doctor." George says.

After turning on the lamp, and grabbing her chair from the corner, the President sets it up beside Alexander's bed, making sure to keep it not too close so his child does not panic during the session. Dr. Nelson hums as she sits down, her golden tail resting against her thigh, the tip flicking lightly from side to side. Both Alpha's watch the storm raging outside, waiting patiently for Alex and Martha to finish in the bathroom.

Dr. Katlyn Nelson has been meeting with Alexander for the past four days, trying to get the small Omega to open up and talk about what he went through. At first, his son had been afraid of her, cowering beneath Martha the first day, the Therapist's Alpha scent making him anxious and jumpy. Nelson had tried to explain to the 12 year old that she was only here to help, and that she was not there to hurt him, but Alex was too far gone to be consulted. He had whimpered and cried for 30 minutes after she had left, hanging onto his parents as though he was being taken again.

His screams had rung extra loud that night.

The next day, Katlyn tried a different tactic. After coming in and sitting down, the Alpha started writing on her clipboard, the scratch of her pen helping to coax the reluctant Omega out of his hiding spot between his Mommy and Daddy. After about 10 minutes, bloodshot brown eyes blinked at her from behind tousled dark hair. They stayed that way throughout the rest of the hour, the Therapist writing out notes as she quietly observes Alexander, while he, in turn, studies her watching him. Martha and George were silent through out the whole affair, the President rubbing soothing circles on his baby's back when he tenses up. The Alpha in him has to fight not to chase away the Doctor, his scent subconsciously trying to beat hers from the room.

The only outward respond George got was the lowering of Nelson's ears, her body language trying to convert that she was not a threat, and that she respected his dominance. It has never been an issue sense.

Once she left that day, the Doctor had given Alex a green notebook and a purple pen, telling him to write whenever he feels sad or scared, or if he remembers a extra gruesome memory. The Omega had almost immediately started to write, bearing down on the flimsy cardboard so hard George though the pen was going to snap. His child didn't even acknowledge the board that was placed under him, or the First Lady's fingers gently running through his hair, all his focus was on the words flowing on the paper. He had filled up the notebook by the next morning, his mother sending word to David to pick up more from the White House. The Secretary arrived a few hours later, carrying a whole box full of different colors and sizes.

Alexander's current notebook, a bright orange one, is sitting slightly hidden under his pillow, his infamous purple pen tucked into the spine. George wonders, not for the first time, what it is his child writes about so late at night.

Dr. Nelson clears her throat, startling the President from his thoughts. A bolt of lighting slices through the room, illuminating the councilor's pale features as she turns toward him. She waits for the rumble to pass before speaking.

"Mr. President, has Alexander spoken to you or your mate about anything that went on in the Lee house?"

Getting a no from the Commander, Katlyn clickers her tongue, face becoming concerned as she glances down at her notes, making a mark on her paper. George is just about to ask her what is wrong when his wife and son step out of the restroom.

Alexander freezes when he catches sight of the Doctor, putting himself slightly behind Martha. His newly washed red shirt is being pulled down by nervous hands as the First Lady gently urges him along. His hair is still slightly damp, a high ponytail making the bruising on his face harsher in the gray light.

The Omega walks slowly toward George and Nelson, his tail tucked between his legs as he glances down. The only sound he makes, a small squeak of pain, is when his father gently picks him up, placing the 12 year old in the middle of the messy bed. The President kisses his head in apology, a deep rumble that mimics the thunder outside escaping his chest.

The swish of the curtain causes the Alpha to turn toward the entrance, subconsciously stepping in front of his two pack members. But it is only Steven, the Nurse holding an ice pack in one hand, an extra bag of fluid in the other.

He doesn't speak as he sets up Alex's I.V. once more, and all of the occupants watch him with various expressions. Dr. Nelson continues to make note every few seconds, her ears perking up at every almost silent noise.

"I am going to need you to hold this to your ribs again, Alexander." The Nurse finally whispers, holding out the blue ice pack, which Martha takes gratefully.

Alex hisses when the cold container is placed on his chest for the 6th time in two days, goosebumps rising along his arms and neck, brown tail fluffing up against the coolness. George quickly brings the sheets up to cover his upper body, rubbing his warm hands up and down his baby's arms to warm him up, while his mate just pulls the 12 year old closer.

Once Steve leaves, Dr. Nelson clears her throat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, blue eyes keen and earnest.

"Hello again, Alex." She says.

The young Omega glances at her from under his lashes, picking at a button on his daddy's shirt. George breathes out a sigh of relief when his son responds to the Therapist for the first time. Martha grips his hand, body language conveying her joy at this small improvement.

"Hi." Alex whispers, voice small and body tensing.

Katlyn smiles softly at the skittish child, a flare of lighting reflecting in her shining cyan eyes. The rumble of thunder that follows is muted, the sound of rain starting to lay off as the storm possibility starts to settle down.

"Have you been writing in your notebook?" The Alpha asks, ears perking up when Alex gives a shy nod.

The Omega grabs his newest papers with a slightly trembling hand, clutching the orange colored book against his chest. The ice pack crinkles at the pressure, some water dripping out and staining the red fabric a darker crimson, dot appearing across Alexander's chest as the liquid soaked through. George feels his stomach clench at the sight, the color reminding him of a different source, of pain filled whimpers and vibrant streaks of red smeared on white sheets and sliding down bruised cheeks. The President shakes his head slightly to clear away the images, pressing a quick kiss to his child's temple. His son's pulse is fluttering underneath his lips, his heart beating wildly as lighting illuminates the room.

"You don't have to show me what you wrote, Alex." Dr. Nelson reassures the 12 year old, "I am just glad that you are putting your thoughts and feelings into words instead of keeping them bottled up."

Alexander looks down once at the notebook still held to his chest, his brown eyes holding an emotion that George cannot place, before he meets the Therapist's gaze again. His opens and closes his mouth, the words that he wants to say getting trapped in his throat as the rain kicks up again. He shifts against his Mother's chest, gripping the ice pack so hard his arm trembles, nostrils flaring and ears drawn back. Martha shares a concerned look with her Alpha, grabbing the pack from Alex, and placing it on the table. Her own nose twitches when she catches his fear filled scent, cupping her baby's face, her dark eyes searching.

"What's wrong, love? Are you in pai-" The Omega starts to ask, but is cut off by her son, his voice filled with sorrow.

"They. . . They would ask me _questions-_ weird questions, about Daddy and his work."

All eyes are locked into the small boy as he whispers about his experiences for the first time. Tears fill his eyes, but none fall yet, his free hand becoming entangled in George's work shirt as he silently seeks comfort. The Alpha is quick to step closer, trying desperately to mask the scent of his fury with a sweep of his tail as Alexander continues.

"I-I didn't know what they were talking about! They kept saying something about a war, and a desert, and how _he_ was the real hero. . . " Alex seems to loose his train of thought for a second, tears finally running down his red cheeks, eyes misty and far away.

The only sound for a few seconds is the scratch of pen against paper as Katlyn furiously tries to write down the whole situation. A clash of thunder sounds, rattling the windows as the wind and rain howl outside. George grips both his Omegas hands tightly, trying desperately trying to control the snarl that wants to curl his lips, already knowing that his wife felt the same way.

"They would beat me when I refused to answer, or if I didn't know what they were asking," The 12 year old continues once the thunder passes, voice flat and fists clenched, "I was almost never allowed to eat, and then sometimes, late at night, Lee would, _he would_ -"

Alexander's voice cracks, fresh tears slipping past his now squeezed shut eyes. His parents both pull him close, the Commander feeling his pupils darken as he shoves away his Alpha instincts. Martha growls silently, white teeth sharpening as she gently strokes her child's still damp hair.

"What would he do, Alex?" The Doctor asks quietly, her pen seizing it's frantic movements as she focuses her entire attention on her patient.

The Omega lets out a cross between and groan and a whine, his fear scent leaking from every pore. He buries his face in his Mommy's chest, sobs forcing their way out of his clenched teeth as he relives the horrors. His voice is nearly unrecognizable when he speaks, body shivering.

" _He would touch me_. . . "

George's ears are sudden filled with ringing. He takes a step back from his family as he feels the wolf inside him become unleashed. His hands turn into paws, claws razor sharp and snout curling back to expose his enlarged fangs. His dark fur stands on end as he jumps up onto the bed, landing with a thump as Katlyn watches with wide eyes. He snarls at her, spit dripping from his bared teeth as he curls about his Omegas. Both people under him whine at the pure protective scent that surrounds them, Martha trying in vain to calm down her mate.

"George, calm down please, it is okay, honey. We are safe and Dr. Nelson is not going to hurt us. Please shift back."

But the President is to far gone to be consulted. Looking over his shoulder, the Alpha snaps his jaws, giving his Omega a warning growl when she huffs. His son is still crying, eyes clenched shut and tiny claws ripping into his white sheets. George feels his heart break at the sight, giving his baby a nuzzle with his nose, a soothing rumble filling his chest as Martha sniffs.

"Mr. President?" Katlyn stands up, keeping her blue eyes lowered in submission at the snarl the other Alpha sends her. Placing her clipboard on her chair behind her, she takes a timid step forward. "Can I speak to Alexander one more time before I leave?"

George sniffs the air, brown eyes searching the Doctor's face as he tucks his body tighter around his pack. Finally, he huffs, tail swishing as he allows Nelson to come closer.

 _You may_.

Dipping her head to the Commander, the female Alpha tips her ears to the side as she gently squats so she is eye level to the now sniffling puppy. Alex wipes his eyes with his sleeve, his heart monitor finally slowing down in its persistent beeping. The First Lady tightens her hold on him when he tenses, but allows him to lift his head from her chest. His eyes are red rimmed, nose stuffed up and leaking snot onto his mom's blue shirt. Martha gently wipe it away with the palm of her hand, cupping her child's cheek with the other.

"I just want to thank you, Alex." Katlyn says gently, eyes brightening as the room flashes white once again. "It was very brave of you to open up today, and I am very proud of you."

The youngest Washington smiles at the Alpha, feeling his heart swell at the praise. Turning his head away from Nelson, the Omega snuggles closer to his Mommy, trying to calm down, breathing in her scent as his tired eyes slip shut.

The Therapist steps back once Alex closes his eyes, grabbing her papers as she faces the still shifted President and his wary mate. George's dark eyes track her every movement, ears twitching as the precipitation outside continues to abuse the window.

"We have made excellent progress this afternoon. I am very happy that Alex decided to talk." Her tone suddenly becomes darker, and George suppresses a shiver, giving his mate a lick on her head when she whimpers. "But we still have a long way to go, and I really hope that this sudden rush of emotions is not to much for Alexander. I would hate to see him revert back to his silence."

With that, Dr. Nelson turns and walks out, not waiting for a response from either Washington. The President continues to stare at the entrance of the clothe for a few more minutes, crawling to lay at the foot of the bed. Martha shifts Alex to a more comfortable position, face troubled.

"Are you going to shift back now, sweetheart?" His wife asks, tail twitching under the blankets as she tugs them up.

 _Not right now._ George says, licking his lips as the taste of the Hospital chemicals settle on his tongue. _I need to make sure you both are safe before I can change back. I will feel restless if I don't._

The First Lady doesn't argue, but her brows draw together in worry. Her Alpha barks soothingly, watching as she kisses their now sleeping puppy's head. Gently pulling Alex up farther, Martha closes her eyes after glancing at her Husband one more time. Her chest rises and falls evenly with each breath, but George knows she is not asleep, and wouldn't be for a while. They both needed to talk about the new development, but right now the President is to wound up to even shift back to a human. He knows, however, that it is only a matter of time, and feels his gut clench and his fur ripple as he sinks further into his instincts.

Sighing silently, the Alpha hops down from the bed, freezing when his mate shifts, but she doesn't open her eyes. Glancing at his family, the Commander sniffs the air, ears flicking as the sound of the rain and Alexander's heart monitor fill his sensitive ears. Feeling his paws start to twitch, he starts to walk back and forth across the foot of the cot, keeping all his senses focused on his pack and the area around them. This lasts for over an hour, the clock on the wall counting each of his steps as he feels Martha's eyes follow his movements. His breaths come in pants, feeling his claws scrape against the cool, tile floor.

Outside, the wind blows, and the rain falls. Lightning flashes and thunder booms. But still, George paces.

 **A/N:** **Thanks for reading** **and don't** **forget** **to** **review!:D**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey guys! I am so sorry for not updating in a while! I have had really bad writers block, but hopefully that has passed. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy Chapter 13:)**

 **P.S. I don't speak French, so I am so sorry for any mistakes.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.**

The next day, the sky is a clear blue being reflected by the many puddles of water that litter the courtyard like reverse islands. The light from the afternoon sun slips through the trees, coating the still wet grass in a golden glow as the water drops glisten. A faint wind blows, bringing the smell of freshly cut grass and damp wood throughout the yard.

Martha grips Alexander's hand tighter as a elderly couple pass, the man's wheelchair sloshing water on the slightly damp concrete, his wife pushing him from behind with a tired trot. Her ears twitch at the nod the Omega gives her, choosing to ignore the Secret Service Member that watches them from a few feet away. The Alpha sitting in the chair gives no reaction, his brown tail sitting limp against his gown clad legs as he stares straight ahead, pupils filled in with a milky white. They pass without a word.

The Omega sighs as her baby slowly loosens his grip on her hand, his notebook crinkling in his other. His ribs make walking difficult, but after using his infamous puppy dog eyes on Doctor Franklin, the Omega had reluctantly allowed him to have lunch outside for an hour. Martha was thrilled, but Alex was still skittish and the First Lady finds herself wishing that George was here to provide the extra comfort and safety his presence exerts.

But being President meant extra responsibilities, and the Alpha had barely been able to make it out the door for an emergency meeting with Congress. The only thing that had kept him from shifting fully was the sight of _all_ of his Pack Members snuggled in Martha's makeshift Nest, Lafayette taking his father's place on his brother's right side.

After being assured by Jim that his Omegas would be safe for the next few hours, the Commander had taken his leave, kissing each of his family members on the forehead before walking out the door, his scent hanging in the air, as thick as a blanket. It had not faded all day, and the First Lady knew that that was not an accident.

"Mama!" A voice cuts through the stillness of the air, and the First Lady turns to look behind her as they stop at at bench, setting down her picnic basket on a spot of mostly dry Earth.

Gilbert runs toward them, Alex's purple pen held out in front of him like a weapon. His navy blue shirt flutters in the wind, the French flag embroiled on the front seeming to wave in triumph. His eyes are bright when he finally stops to stand in front of his mother and brother, grasping for breath, his once clean shoes covered with small flecks of dirt.

"I got it!"

Martha smiles down at her other son, brushing his bushy hair back with one hand, and grabbing the pen with the other.

"When I said 'Run and grab the pen' I didn't mean literally sprint, sweetheart." The First Lady laughs, watching with amusement as Gilbert shrugs, still bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Sitting down beside her youngest child, the Omega hands the utensil over to Alex, who scoots over to make room for Laf. The 15 year old plops down on the white bench, careful to not land on his brother's tubes still pumping liquids into his veins. Alexander glances at the other Omega once before opening his notebook and beginning to write, his own French shirt wrinkling as he leans over.

Martha watches with a soft smile as Gilbert rests his head on Alex's shoulder, feeling relieved when the small boy doesn't flinch away. Leaning down to open the brown basket sitting at their feet, the First Lady pulls out 3 sandwiches. She places her tuna sub on her lap, handing Lafayette his PB&J, and Alex his turkey and cheese. They are quiet while they eat, the only sound being the faint chirping of the birds, and the distant mummers of other patients enjoying the warm day.

"How was your trip, Lafayette?" Alexander asks quietly, still looking down at the paper in his lap, pen slowly stilling its movements as his brother starts to speak.

Gilbert grins, leaning down and begins describing his grand adventures in Europe with exaggerated movements. "It was so much fun Alex! I saw the Eiffel Tower, and got to try some _Clafoutis_. . . "

As the boys talk among themselves, Martha takes a sip of her water, glancing around at the green that surrounds them. General Mulligan notices her wandering gaze, his red hair being ruffled by the breeze. He takes a step toward them, his black tie slipping past his pressed buttoned dress shirt, and his sunglasses reflecting the yellow of the sun.

Alex, his fluffy ears perking up, turns toward the other Omega, tensing and leaning to cover his orange notebook with his new shirt. Gilbert, cutting off mid-sentence, noticing his brother's distress, snaps his head around to stare at the General, bearing his teeth and making a move to stand up. His Mother, after flashing her own teeth in a more ferocious warning at Jim, is quick to rest a hand on his knee, pushing down so that he sits once more.

"It is okay, honey. Jim is not a threat." Martha says, tail flicking.

Lafayette doesn't say anything, but his grip on his sandwich loosens, and he resumes his spot on Alexander's shoulder. He must have finished with his tales because he doesn't speak about it for the rest of the lunch. Alexander glances around with sharp, jerking motions, tail ruffling up against his mother's leg. The 12 year old sniffs the air, and seeming to find no threats, goes back to writing, taking a bite of his sandwich every couple of seconds.

The First Lady looks them over once before turning back toward the General. Jim is standing a few feet away, green eyes wide at the display the small French speaking boy put forth. Martha waves one hand when he steps closer again, trying to tell the other Omega that they don't need assistance without disturbing her children. Mulligan nods, red tail tucking against his leg as he steps back, continuing with his watch over the President's Pack.

The Omega takes a bite of her tuna sandwich, feeling a piece of celery crunch under her teeth, the tangy juice coating her tongue. Laf sips his tea, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, smiling sheepishly at the look his Mama sends him. Alex rolls his eyes, huffing out a laugh as he furiously scratches a few words off of his line covered paper, placing his half eaten sub on his thigh.

A puffy cloud covers the sun, casting the courtyard in shade for a few seconds. A plane passes overhead, the engine a smooth rumble that is gone as soon as it appears. Martha sits back, resting her head against the back of the bench. The scent of family fills her glands, George's musky smell clinging to each of their skin like the most comforting perfume.

Alexander shifts, and the First Lady cracks one brown eye open, looking his way just as Gilbert speaks.

"What are you writing, _frere_?"

The 12 year old freezes his hands mid-sentence, leg tapping a steady rhythm against the wet concrete. His brother seems to realize his fault, and tries to backtrack, looking quickly between Alex and his mom. Martha gently pats his hand, telling him to keep quiet while she comforts her youngest son.

The Omega seems fine at first glance, but upon further inspection, the First Lady notices the tightening of his jaw, and the tremble of his hands. His ears are pinned back, and tail swishing. Martha leans over, kissing his head, making the little boy tremble as he fights his anxiety.

" _Je suis desole_ Alex! I didn't mean to make you scared!" Lafayette says, giving his younger brother a quick hug.

Alexander returns the gesture, face burning in shame as he squeezes Gilbert back with more force than needed, feeling tears fill his eyes at the sudden rush of emotion.

"It is okay, Laf. _Je_ _promets._ "

The 15 year old pulls back after a minute, a grin lighting up his face, before shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk. Martha wrinkles her nose as Alexander laughs, pushing the older Omega away as he leans in for another embrace, jelly smeared across his mouth and nose.

"Eww Lafayette, you're so gross!"

"Shut up, baby brother! You know you love me."

The youngest Washington doesn't choose to respond, shaking his head at his sibling's antics as he starts to write again. The First Lady hands Gilbert a napkin, squinting against the bright sunlight as her son crumples the now dirty cloth in his fist. They don't talk for a while after that, instead listening to the sounds of the Hospital around them.

They are startled by Alexander's voice floating toward them, soft and rhythmic.

" _Morning calls him_

 _Eyes are bright_

 _With knowing_

 _In the beckoning light,_

 _Turning reflective_

 _At the token_

 _Of a thought._

 _Wisdom has spoken_

 _Through the wonder_

 _In the eyes_

 _Of a child;_

 _Mark the prize_

 _His own,_

 _Within the reach of the sun,_

 _If ever light_

 _Is lost or won."_

Martha starts, fur rising and goosebumps forming along her arms as she stares wide eyed at her baby. Gilbert grips her hand, seeming to understand how important this moment is for his brother. Even Jim, who crept closer when Alexander started speaking, seemed stunned, eyebrows raised above the black glass of his shades.

No one speaks, the only sound is the chirping of the birds as they fly from tree to tree. Alex, glancing between his Mommy and Laf, starts to shrink in on himself, seeming to take their silence as a rejection of some sort. Reaching over, the First Lady carefully cups both of his red cheeks in her soft hands, being mindful of the fading bruises that still cover his face. Kissing his head, right above his white bandages, Martha thanks whoever is watching over them for this moment.

"Alexander, sweetheart, that was. . ." _Beautiful_ , _amazing, precious._ Martha can't describe the feeling she is experiencing right now, wishing with all of her heart that her Alpha was here to experience it.

"Dude, that was _fantastique_! So freaking cool!" Gilbert says, voice high pitched in excitement. His brows suddenly draw together in confusion as he realizes who wrote it. " _Dawn Child_ _._ By Helen Baker Walker. We read that in school, but how did you-"

Alexander cuts him off, blushing again. "I might had stolen your English textbook for a few days while you were away at camp. I-I write from that a lot, that is what is mostly in here." He pats his notebook with one trembling hand.

Instead of looked offended, the older Omega grins cunningly, holding up his free hand for a high five, which his brother gently returns. Martha laughs, throwing away all of the trash from their lunch as Jim signals that it is almost time to leave. Giving a nod at the General, the First Lady suddenly turns back toward her youngest child.

"How did you remember the poem word for word, Alex?" She asks, tail-tip twitching as her curiosity grows.

The 12 year old shrugs, wincing slightly as his ribs burn at the movement. "I don't know, I just do. I can picture the words in my mind when I write, and they just come to me."

"Like magic!" Gilbert inserts, smiling smugly at the _Harry Potter_ reference.

His brother nods, starting to close his notebook and cap his pen. After helping Martha catch a runway napkin, the Omega begins the short trek back to the room, his I.V. being pushed from behind him by a careful Mulligan, 2 more Agents leading the way in the front. Gilbert skips ahead a few times, but reluctantly stops running after a stern word from his Mama.

Right before they step back into the building, the 12 year old breathes in deeply, coating his senses with the smell of fresh air, trying to keep that scent with him until tomorrow. Next to him, Martha does the same, resting a hand on each of her children's shoulders as they step through the automatic doors. As they ride up the elevator for the 2 time that day, she asks Alex one final question.

"Why did you choose to copy that poem?"

Alexander seems to think about it for a while, and it isn't until they are back in the Hospital room, and behind the white curtain that he answers.

"Because it reminds me of who I used to be, and motivates me to try to become as close to that same person as I can." He slowly climbs back into bed, scooting over to make room for Lafayette. "It helps to chase the bad dreams away, like you and Daddy do."

The First Lady settles in beside her sons, reaching out an arm so that they are both covered. Gilbert, after diligently searching for a good 5 minutes, finally finds the remote at the foot of the bed. He turns the T.V. on, the theme song of _Spongebob_ echoing off the cream colored walls. Out of the corner of her eye, the Omega sees Agents set up their posts outside the entrance flap. Jim, after some coaxing by the Female Omega, went home for a few hours to catch up with his own family, Alex telling him to say hello to Hercules for him.

With her child's words echoing in her ears, Martha watches a cartoon with her Pack Members, snuggled up close and bathed in the scent of family. She relaxes for the first time in days, wishing that George was here so they could be whole. Knowing that her mate would be home in a few hours, the First Lady curls tighter around her babies, resting her chin on top of Laf's bushy hair.

And for the time being, everything was calm and nothing was wrong. Martha just hoped it would stay that way, at least for a few more days.

One can only hope.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!:D**

 **Translations:**

 ** _Clafoutis: A French_** ** _Desert_**

 ** _frere: Brother_**

 ** _Je_** ** _suis_** ** _desole: I am_** ** _sorry_** _._

 ** _Je_** **_promets: I promise_**

 ** _fantastique: Fantastic_**

 **The** **poem** **used** **is** **called** **_Dawn_** **_Child_** **by** **Helen** **Baker** **Walker**.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Here is Chapter 14! I hope you guys like it!:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.**

The air is muggy and damp, smelling of sour body odor and cigarette smoke. The low murmurs from other sections of the building are far off and muted, as though from under several feet of water (or sealed behind multiple layers of bullet proof glass and steel). A occasional laugh or groan surfaces for a spilt second from either side of the walls, each sounding high pitched and half crazed, before the holler of an officer cuts it off short.

George walks slowly down the long hallway, steps echoing in the dim light of the iridescent lanterns that swing from the low ceiling, feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck at each noise. His ears catch the sound of when his Chief of Staff, Scarlet Harris, approaches his side, the pale pink of her dress a stark contrast to the gray interior that surrounds them.

"Just a few more minutes of walking, Mr. President." She says, tucking a loose strand of strawberry blond hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, sir."

The Alpha waves her off, feeling the sole of his black dress shoe squish into a puddle of water. He grimaces. "It's fine, Mrs. Harris, it gives me more time to. . . prepare myself."

Scarlet nods, understanding that the Commander is barely holding onto his control. The Omega steps a few feet back, leaving George to walk down the hallway with his thoughts buzzing through his head.

Director Meeks had told him the news early that morning, the rising sun turning the sky into cotton candy colors as the clouds finally pass. The ginger had shaken him awake, not bothering to wait for the President to get dressed before dragging him out of the barrier and into the hallway beyond. After checking around them for stray Nurses and Doctors, the Alpha grinned, green eyes lit up for the first time in days. He leaned close to George, his scent filled with triumph, and whispered something that changed the Commander's whole day.

The President immediately jumped into action, feeling relief fill his veins as he quickly got on his white dress shirt and red tie. Martha had finally woken up then, her tired brown eyes searching his face when he walked up, Gilbert and Alexander sleeping peacefully beside her.

"Where are you going, George?" She asked, reaching up to cup his jaw, brows furrowing at the sight of his elongated fangs. "What's wrong, honey?"

The Alpha pressed a quick kiss to her lips, breathing in the scent of his family. "Nothing baby, I just have to go to an emergency Congress Meeting."

He felt guilt fizzle in his stomach at the lie, his tail twitching. But no matter how bad he felt, he knew he could not let his Omega accompany him on this trip, the wolf inside him bristling at the thought. At movement on the side of Martha caught his eye, and he turned just as Gilbert sits up.

" _Bonjour_ , Papa." He says, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand, the other reaching out toward the President.

"Good morning, sweetheart." The Alpha replies, squeezing Laf's hand back.

"Where are you going?"

"Just to a meeting, I should be back later today." Again with the guilt, but George pushed it back. "Go back to sleep, Gil."

The 15 year old squinted, his brown eyes studying his father for a few tense seconds before he huffed. Reaching up, the young Omega planted a wet kiss onto George's scruffy face, before curling back up against his Mama.

"Don't forget, you promised we wou-" A yawn cuts his sentence in half, his eyes slipping shut as he wrapped one arm around his still snoring brother. "-ld watch a movie t-tonight as a family."

"I remember. The one with the talking cop animals right?" The Commander whispered, gently running one hand through his child's curls.

Lafayette snickered quietly, nuzzling his face further into his pillow as Martha pulls the sheet further up his chest.

"Yep, _Zootopia._ With buttered popcorn, lots of butter. . ." The 15 year old's voice started to fade as he went back to dreaming, giving one final _"Je_ _t'aime_ , Papa." before a trail of drool made a puddle on the pillow.

"I love you too, Gilbert." George says quietly, kissing his Omega's foreheads, Alex wrinkling his nose at the sensation, gripping Martha's shirt tighter in his fist. "I love all of you, so much."

"We love you too, George." The First Lady whispered as her husband takes a step back. "Please make sure you eat something before the meeting."

"I will."

The President stopped for a second, letting his body relax as he covers the room in his scent, making sure to blow one final kiss to his mate before stepping fully out the door. General Mulligan gives him a nod when he passed, promising silently to watch over his Pack while he is gone. Pushing down his guilt for the millionth time, George quickly grabbed a granola bar from a basket on the Nurses Station. He ripped off the wrapper as he walks, stuffing half the bar into his mouth at once as the Secret Service Members open the outside doors.

His black limo waited for him, the metal shining in the growing light. Thanking the service member that opened his door, the Commander quickly swallowed down the rest of his granola bar, feeling the oats stick to the back of his throat as they started to roll out of the parking lot. Glancing back once at the building behind them, the President remembers feeling the tension that lit up his body like lightning.

A clearing of a throat shakes George from his thoughts. Blinking quickly, the Alpha gives his full attention to Director Meeks as he walks to stand in front of him, ears flickering as the ginger starts to speak.

"Mr. President, the Interrogation Room is right through this door," looking quickly at the door they are standing by, he pats the steel frame with one hand, the sound hollow, "No one will be allowed in besides you, me, and authorized Agents."

A small gust of wind suddenly kicks up some scents from below the door, and George's eyes widen as he scents the air. Growling, the Alpha is about to tear open the steel when he is stopped by Meeks.

"Sir, I know who is talking with you today, and I know that it is going to be hard keeping your protective instincts in check, but please try. If not for your sake, then for your Pack's."

Licking his lips, the Commander slowly relaxes, feeling his claws start to shrink. Taking a deep breath, George focuses again on the Director.

"I'm sorry, Andrew. Please continue."

Nodding, the Alpha stands up a little taller. "As I was saying, this meeting will last for as long as you need it to, sir. You may ask any question that pertains to the case, and do not need to answer any yourself. Any violence will not be tolerated."

Seeing that his boss understands, Meeks pulls on the handle, both Alphas wincing at the squeak that assaults their ears. Walking into the small room, the President looks around, locating a metal table and 2 matching chairs on either side, one fitted for handcuffs. A sheets of glass covers one wall, the people that George knows are on the other side completely invisible via the one-way quality of the mirror. Another metal door is situated beside the glass, the heavy lock making the Commander feel anxious.

Taking a seat on the closest chair, George watches as Scarlet walks in behind them, her head held high, and her brown eyes focused. She stands off to his right. Meeks takes the other side, tail snapping straight as footsteps approach from behind the other door. Sitting up straight, the President stares a hole into the metal as a key is pressed into the lock.

He feels more than sees the Service Members tensing behind him, but all of his attention is locked onto the door as it slowly swings open. A musky male smell assaults his senses, settling on his tongue and almost making him gag.

Narrowing his eyes, and bearing his fangs, George silently stares down Charles Lee as he walks in.

The Alpha's once neatly combed blond hair is greasy and tangled in knots, his orange jumpsuit making the bruising that covers his face stand out vividly, white bandages glowing around his head. His walk is more of a lopsided gait, seeming to vastly favor his right side as he slowly limps over. His left arm, sitting in a cast that hangs around his neck, flops back into his chest with each step, his right hand pulled behind his back by a chain cuff tied at his waist. His eyes, partly hidden behind his dirty bangs, are locked onto George's, blazing a gray fire as he is forced to sit into his own cold metal chair by 2 police officers.

He doesn't say anything as the officers lock his cuff onto the pole on the table, flexing his right fingers as he continues to study George. They sit there for a few minutes, both barely breathing as they stare at each other. Finally, Lee breaks the silence.

"Mr. President."

His voice is raspy, as though he hasn't used it in a while. The term, while normally conveys respect, is spit out like the worst curse word, the Alpha's face still blank and non-interested.

George doesn't respond, feeling fury fill his blood as he thinks of this man _touching_ his baby. His brown eyes darken, a snarling fighting for appearance as his lips curl. Taking a breath, the President tries to calm down, knowing that Lee wants him to get angry. And the bastard is not getting anything he wants, not today.

Lee seems un-surprised by the lack of reaction, tapping out a steady rhythm against the table with his good hand, the hand cuff jingling.

"It seems that the little brat finally out played me. I will give him credit, he was very persistent. But I had a few ways to-" The Alpha licks his lips, eyes dilated in pleasure. "-make him remember who was _boss_. Oh yes, he was so pretty pushed up against the wall, sweet tears falling from his beautiful eyes. . .

George growls, the only sound he has made so far, leaning forward so that he is towering over the other male. His power swirls around him, his scent heavy and coated with anger. Out of the corner of his eye, the President sees Meeks step forward to interrupt, but is stopped by a quick look from the Commander. Seeing that he was free to continue, the Alpha brings his hands to rest on either side of Lee's body, bringing his face inches away from the prisoners.

"I don't care about the consequences, if you _ever_ talk about my child that way again, I am going to tear you limb from limb!" He whispers, claws scratching against the cool metal.

But the other Alpha still gives no reaction, leaning back against his chair with seemingly practiced ease. The only outward change is in his scent, which wavers slightly, before filling up the room with more pheromones than needed. George huffs, glaring one more time at the bastard, before settling back against his own chair.

"Now, you are going to answer all of my questions to the best of your ability-" The President starts to says, but is cut off by Lee, his voice bordering on bored.

"'All is fair in love and war.'"

"What?"

"You know the saying, George." The Alpha says, ignoring the warning glare the Commander sends him, tail twitching against the leg of his chair. "'All is fair in love and war.' People have been saying that since the beginning of time."

The President waits for him to elaborate, but all he gets back is the same blank, almost dead stare. Clearing his throat, the Alpha continues with his speech.

"As I was saying, we can do this the easy way, or the hard w-"

"Do you remember the war, Mr. President?" Lee suddenly asks, shifting around in his seat, his gray eyes intense as they bore into George's. "Do you remember the blazing sun, and the scorching sand that would rub your feet raw with each step?"

 _Yes._ George remembers all of that and so much more. The war with Afghanistan was a hard war, and it still haunts his dreams. The screams of the drying, and the cold silence of the already deceased. The days of walking, heavy packs weighing down their backs, little to no food in their stomachs, and sometimes even less water. The precision in which they killed other humans had always scared and fascinated George, and he remembers the first time he took a life. . .

Shaking his head, the Alpha forces the memories back into the corner of his mind, instead of choosing to focus on the criminal in front of him. Lee was watching him with the same collected intensity, and smirks at the haunted look the President tries to hide.

"I was in the 12 Division. Sniper." The blond says with a small amount of pride. "I was instructed to kill my enemies with pin point accuracy, and if I saw an opportunity, was commanded to shoot no matter what they were doing."

A minuscule amount of happiness flows into his tone, so fleeting that George thought maybe he imagined it.

"I killed people while they were eating dinner, or riding a bike, or walking their dog. I murdered them getting groceries, and driving their cars. Even though they were people, human beings, I still felt some enlightenment, some pleasure . . . "

He stops speaking for a few minutes, the only sound being the breathing of the 4 of them, and the hum of the air conditioner kicking on. The light above them slowly starts to sway in the now flowing air, the President feeling goose bumps rising along his skin from the cold, and from the concentrated eyes of the killer in front of him.

"Do you know what I learned, George?"

The Commander shakes his head, feeling his irritation spike at the casual use of his first name. Lee clenches his good fist, the cuff making it hard for him to do anything else.

"I leaned that it is _so easy_ to take things from people, especially from fools." The criminal's voice is hollow and grim, reflecting the atmosphere of the room. "Like you."

The President still doesn't understand, and his confusion must show on his face because Lee huffs, irritation morphing his busted up features.

"You took something from me, something important-life changing even! You started my downfall with your hero bullshit! Remember the promotion?"

George just stares, gasping at the other man as the thoughts finally click together, like a puzzle that found its last missing piece.

"You mean, you were the other Soldier they were considering promoting?" The President asks, hearing Scarlet gasp behind him as she figures it out.

"Yes! And I would have gotten the job if it wasn't for _you._ You, with all of your metals, and talk of honor, the great George Washington in all of his mighty glory." Lee sneers, sarcastic and cruel. "While you were living the high life as a General, I was stuck down in the slumps, a worthless Lieutenant, forced to bow to your every wim."

The male, in his passion and anger, tries to stand up, but the chain connected to the table prevents the action, leaving him to fall back down into his seat with a loud thump. With his eyes blazing, Lee leans forward toward George, face pinched in the imitation of a smile, teeth sharp and bared. His ears fold back, claws leaving thin scratches on the gray metal of the table. Director Meeks comes forward to control the enraged Alpha, his gun out and loaded, but the President holds up one hand, forcing the man to halt in his advancement.

"And when m-my time to shine f-finally came, to show my commanders that I was c-capable of leading a team, I was again stopped b-by you." Charles gasps out, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

George remembers this mission, and he feels frustration rise up from his gut. His tail snaps around his legs, foot tapping on the concrete floor. "I told you to retreat! I saved your life!" _Sadly_.

"You made me look _weak_! That was my one chance to advance in rank and you ruined it! We could have killed th-"

" _Enough_!" The President finally commands, his Alpha tone vibrating throughout the room. Lee snaps his mouth shut, bloodshot eyes widening at the power the other man has over him. "We are getting no where. What does all of this have to do with my son?"

The other Alpha grins, shark-like and dangerous. Seeming to gather his composure once again, he carefully props one foot on the corner of the table, trying to appear uninterested. Brushing his dirty hair from his face, he speaks in a lust filled voice.

"Oh, yes. Well, when we saw that the Coven was going to be putting _Operation Evaluate_ in place, we knew that this was the perfect way to ensure the most pain we could cause you. So we put our names onto the list of possible placement homes, and prayed that we got one of your children. The next day, we got the news that we were approved, and found out that we would take your youngest pup. _Alexander_."

Shivering at his baby's name coming from this monster, George fights for control once again. "He said that you would ask him questions about _me._ Why?"

Charles giggles, the sound causing the hair on the President to stand straight up in alarm. "I just wanted to see what he knew, if there was anything we could use against you. But he knew nothing useful, so I put his mouth to better use."

George stands up, feeling queasy at the though of Lee forcing his child, his puppy to do those nasty things. He starts to pace, snarling, feeling all of the eyes watching, from behind the glass and not, as he goes back and forth across the room. His wolf is pushing against his skin, wanting to get out and attack, but the Alpha pushes it down, knowing that it would only make things worse.

"Where is Jane?" He suddenly asks, nostrils flaring at Lee's bitter scent. "Surely she was with you when-"

The President gestures to the cuts and bruises that litter the Alpha's skin, his broken arm twitching at the movement as he sits up. His gray eyes are dull, reflecting the light of the lamp with slitted pupils.

"I have never driven in Virginia before, especially at night and in the rain." Lee says, feel defensive for some reason. His lips curl. "And that truck came out of nowhere. . ."

"That wasn't what I asked." George growls, his frustration growing. He stops pacing and stands in front of the blond, jabbing his finger onto the table with every word. "Where. Is. Your. Mate?"

Lee scowls, his sharp chin jutting out as he thinks. Finally he speaks, voice sounding defeated for the first time that day.

"I-I don't know."

The Commander frowns, leaning down closer to the man. "You don't know where your Omega is?"

"No!" The criminal fidgets, trying to reach up to tug at the collar of his orange shirt. "I mean, she-she was there, when we got into the crash. Right beside me, yelling at me about her having to pee. . . The next second, we were in a ditch. The passengers side was empty, with blood everywhere and the glass broken. My head was bleeding pretty bad, I might have blacked out. . . When I woke up, I was handcuffed to a hospital bed. They wouldn't tell me anything. . ."

Lee grew uneasy and quiet after that. George tries to ask him a few more questions, to get back on the topic and get evidence, but the other Alpha's gaze is foggy and unfocused. He doesn't even flinch when the President scoots his chair back, the metal scrapping against the concrete.

George sighs as he turns toward the other people in the room. His Chief of Staff is capping her pen, smoothing down the wrinkles in her dress, and waiting for an order from her boss. The President nods at her, and she turns to walk out. Once the door is shut firmly behind her, George looks at Meeks, knowing that the feeling of frustration and apprehension is shared between the two of them. Finally, he stares at Lee once more, the killer fixing his cold gray gaze on the Commander.

"I think we are done here." George finally says, and watches as 2 police officers file back into the room.

He thanks them for their time as they unclip Lee from the table, the Alpha making no move to resist. His head is lowered, tail dragging behind him and ears drawn against his unruly blond hair. His limp thumps against the ground with each step.

Director Meeks steps forward to lead the President out of the room, and the Alpha is about to follow him when he is stopped by Lee voice, sounding ominous and as dry as gravel.

"Don't forget, George. There is always one wolf in every field of sheep."

Then he is gone. The metal door bangs shut behind him, and both occupants of the room listen as his footsteps slowly get further away, his scent become stale as they stand there. After a few seconds of silence, the Director rests one supporting hand on the Commander's shoulder, gently tugging him in the direction of the now open door.

"Are you ready to go now, sir?"

The Alpha nods with a soft "Yes, thank you." before Andrew leads him out into the foul smelling hallway.

They begin to walk away from the room. George leaves with more questions then answers, and a sense that more confusion is still to come.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Here is Chapter 15! Sorry for not updating in a while, was being dumb and wouldn't let me upload this Chapter *sigh* but it's all good now! I hope you enjoy this Chapter:)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.**

When he arrives back at the Hospital, his feet aching and eyes tired, the puddles of water that laid across the grass are non-existent. The sun is falling slowly west, its golden glow casting long shadows on the concrete as it soaks up the remaining liquid like a sponge. George sighs as he steps through the automatic doors, watching his team of Agents check around every corner before he is even close to it. The Hospital staff gaze at him with a mixture of envy and awe, ears perking up and noses lifting high into the air.

They arrive at the elevator with no interruptions, the red tinged UP button getting pressed by a blonde Service Member, his tail twitching. The President steps into the small room once it arrives, trying to hide his grimace at the smell of the Prison he knows coats his skin and clothes. He just hopes to make it into the bathroom before Martha notices.

That hope is ruined, however, as soon as he steps into the covered portion of the room. Breathing deeply, the Alpha is happy to note that his scent is still hanging in the air, the breathe knocking out of him when a warm body launches itself at his middle. Wrapping his arms around Gilbert, George buries his face in his oldest son's bushy hair as the Omega snuggles closer. Looking up, the President watches with warm eyes as Alexander slowly limps closer, Martha walking a few paces behind him in case he falls.

The First Lady wrinkles her nose at the small that assaults her senses once she gets closer, narrowing her brown eyes at her Husband. Alex steps into the embrace of his Daddy and brother, feeling his nerves suddenly spike at the disgusting scent that fills his nose. He quickly scoots back, his still bruised face heating up in embarrassment when he catches his father's eye, while Laf crinkles his brows in confusion.

"What's wrong, Alex?" The French speaking boy asks, the setting sun turning his wild hair aglow.

"I don't know, Daddy just smells funny." The 12 year old says, his bony shoulders lifting in a shrug as he takes a few hesitate steps backwards.

George gives a awkward laugh, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he meets his wife's searching eyes. "Yeah, I-uh- really need to get a shower."

Gently pushing Gilbert's away from him, the President gently kisses both his and Alexander's foreheads, reaching out to wrap his arms around his mate. Martha squeezes back, nostrils flaring as she sniffs his neck. Kissing her lips, he turns away quickly, stepping toward the bathroom.

He grabs his folded night clothes from the dresser, untying his tie as he walks, feeling guilt simmer in his stomach for the millionth time that day as his Omega begins to set up the T.V. for the movie. Alexander and Lafayette sit beside her on the bed, the youngest of the two almost immediately grabbing his notebook and opening it to a blank page. His movements are somewhat frantic, as though he has to many thoughts and not enough ink in his pen.

Closing the oak door behind him, George sighs as he turns the light on, the brightness illuminating the dark circles under his eyes as he steps closer to the shower. Opening the yellow curtain, the Alpha turns on the faucet, the warm mist created rising above the rack of towels. Tugging off his clothes, George steps into the spay, the tension that is held in his body since meeting with Lee melting out of his bones like butter.

He tries not to think about what went on in the Interrogation Room, a tiny shiver of fury suddenly cooling the water that runs down his back. But he forces the anger back, and, grabbing the bottle of body wash on the counter, begins to wash the stink of Lee and the Prison from his body. As he scrubs, the memories that the criminal unknowingly pushed to the front of his mind flash before his eyes. Blinking rapidly, the President snarls, ear perking up as a soft tap at the door catches his attention.

"Come in." He calls, Martha's scent rising to his nose as she steps into the bathroom.

She closes the door once again, peeking her head out to check on her children one last time before it clicks shut.

"Where were you today, George?" She asks him as soon as he opens the curtain, her eyes brazing and fur standing on end.

The President steps out of the tub, drying his now clean body with the white towel hanging on the hook. He tugs on his underwear and gray pants, before turning to face his enraged mate.

"Baby-" he tries, but she cuts him off, tail snapping behind her as she stomps closer to him.

"Don't you 'baby' me, George Washington! Now I might not be the President of the United States, but I know for a fact that a Congress meeting does not smell like cigar smoke and _anger."_

The Alpha opens and closes his mouth, lifting his cotton shirt over his head as he searches for an answer. The First Lady shifts impatiently, running one hand through her dark hair as she waits for an explanation.

"I _was_ at a meeting," George finally says, lowering his head in shame as he speaks. "But. . . it wasn't with Congress."

Martha doesn't speak, and when the Alpha looks up from his sulking, her face is cherry red and brown eyes slit in fury. She clenches her fists, and walking in short bursts, stands in front of the mirror. Turning on the tap, she rinses her face, drops of water landing on her purple night shirt. Her face, when she looks back at her still gasping mate, is a mixture of disappointment and anger. George takes a hesitant step toward her, reaching out and wraps his arms around her waist. She doesn't react, doesn't pulls away or lean closer, and the President wishes she would do something.

"You lied to me." Martha says quietly, voice soft and strained. "You _lied_ to me, George."

The Commander tightens his arms, pressing his lips against the top of her head, her shampoo scent filling his nose.

"I know, and I'm sorry." He says against her hair. She grips his arms, her claws digging into his skin with a small pinch. "But I could not let you come with me."

"What do you me-"

"They caught Lee earlier this morning."

His Omega suddenly pulls back, eyes widening and tail curling up. " _What_?! George, that is amazing! Why the hell didn't you tell me earlier?"

The Alpha shakes his head, grabbing his toothbrush from the bag on the counter as he speaks.

"You would have wanted to come with me, to see for yourself the bastard that violated our child. I couldn't have that, Martha."

George snarls silently, and his wife, seeming to forget her anger in return for an explanation, leans closer. Gently taking the plastic brush that her Husband has clutched in his fingers, she encourages him to continue.

"But I could have handled him." She protests, setting the blue brush near the now turned off faucet. George bristles, turning sharply around to face her, reaching out and grasping her waist again. "Wha-"

" _No_! I will not let you go anywhere near that-that-" he can't even finish that sentence, his wolf vibrating under him skin at the very thought. "He is a _disease, a virus,_ and I cannot even think about letting you or the pups anywhere near him or his mate. I don't doubt your strength, honey. I doubt my power to control myself if he even looked at you wrong!"

The President is grasping by the end of his small speech. Martha, anger completely forgotten, shifts closer toward his chest, offering comfort. Neither of them speak for a few minutes, ears twitching at the sound of the previews playing on the television outside, laughter fallowing soon after. Sniffing the air, George is relieved to scent his boy's content and happy smells flowing through the crack in the door.

"I understand, George." The First Lady finally whispers, ears falling against her hair and tail entwining with her Alpha's. "I know you were just trying to look out for me and our sons."

The Commander nods, breathing a sigh of relief as she finally understands, kissing her forehead. Her voice suddenly hardens, and she leans back, eyes serious.

"But if you ever lie to me again, I am going to make the couch look like a freaking paradise."

Chuckling, the Alpha squeezes her waist once again before stepping away. He quickly begins to brush his teeth, but stops after his stomach growls. Martha smirks, leading them out of the bathroom without protest. Alex and Lafayette perk up when they spot them, the artificial light from the movie illuminating their faces as they turn around.

"Nurse Steve brought us popcorn!" Alex chirps, holding out a red bowl filled to the brim with the yellow grain, steam rising up and fogging the air around his head. "And some dinner for Daddy."

Taking the plate of pasta from Gilbert, the President slips into bed beside his kids, Martha climbing in on the other side.

"We already ate." The First Lady answers her mate's silent question, and George huffs, satisfied that his Pack is well fed. He begins to dig into the meal with vigor.

The cot groans, sagging slightly against the weight of all of them combined, but George knows he could not lay by himself right now, not after what he went through today. He knows that it will haunt his dreams tonight and for many more nights to come. But for now, he is content and smiles on the knowledge that his family is together and safe.

Taking a bite of the noodles, the red sauce burning his tongue, the Commander settles down to watch _Zootopia_ with his Pack.

When his eyes snap open a few hours later, the first thing he registers is a bright white light that sends a sharp pain through his head. Untangling his arm from Martha's, the President rubs his burning coronas with shaking hands, feeling nausea fizzle in his stomach. Sitting up slowly, George glances around, senses still on high alert after his dream.

A bowls filled with popcorn kernels sits crookedly on the nightstand, the remains of the movie night seeming to rest with a content sigh. Once the end credits had played, and all trash thrown out, both teens had fallen asleep almost instantly, toothpaste still resting in the corner of Gilberts mouth from sluggishly brushing his teeth, Alexander's hair still wild from his halfhearted brushing. Martha had let it slide just this once, yawning as she turned around. She was sleep in minutes, their son's followed soon after.

Blinking his eyes, the President tries to recollect himself from his vivid dream.

 _Nightmare_. His mind supplies, and the Alpha flinches at the images that assault his inner eye once again.

 _A young man, dark eyes wide beneath his rusty helmet, seen though sand crusted eyes. A raised gun. A bang. Red blossoms like a flower on his chest, hand curling up to claw at the wound. Gasping for air, like a fish. He falls. George stands over him blocking the raging sun. The Alpha's mouth opens and closes in a silent apology. No words escape. A last breathe. Cold silence. The smell of death. George's eyes blurred by tears that the he tries to hide from his Officers. No, no please, don't- I didn't want to do this, I didn't want-_

Shaking his head at the memories, the Commander is startled to find Alexander watching him from his bed, hand positioned above his open notebook. The source of the yellow light, a small lamp resting beside his heart machine, cast half his face in shadow. The whites of his eyes glow in the pocket of darkness.

"Daddy?" The Omega whispers, voice raspy, "Are you okay?"

The questions is so innocent that George almost laughs, holding up his hand to halt his baby's movements to climb out of bed. Pointing to Gilbert resting beside the 12 year old, the Alpha is pleased to see him ease back into his pillow once more.

"I'm fine, Alex." The President lies, trying hard to fight the trembling in his hands, taking a glance at his peacefully sleeping wife beside him. "What are you doing up, sweetheart?"

Glancing down at his lap, the Omega fiddled with his thumbs, licking his lips as his face heats up. His dark ears, once peeked up in interest, now fall back against his head.

"I-uh- couldn't sleep. Kept having nightmares about h- _him. . ."_

George sighs, propping his pillow behind his head, trying to send soothing waves toward his troubled child. "Do you dream of him often?"

"Every night." Wiping at his eyes, Alex starts to write again, pen scratching at the paper with renewed vigor. His tail shifts underneath him. "I am just so scared, Daddy."

"Of what, love?"

"That he will come back, and _take_ me again."

Feeling his heart break, the President slips out of his and Martha's bed, the tile floor cool against his feet as he walks over to his now crying son. Climbing in beside him, the Alpha gathers Alex in his arms, rocking them from side to side. Careful not to disturb Laf, George pulls back to wipe away the stray tears leaking from his youngest child's dark eyes. He growls soothingly.

"They caught him, Alexander." George whispers against his baby's hair, feeling more then seeing the gasp of shock that hits his chest. More liquid soaks his shirt, tears of happiness falling from the Omega's eyes for the first time in months. "You don't have to worry about that monster anymore, honey."

Cupping Alex's red cheeks in his large hands, the President gently catches every tear with his thumb as he shakes his own horrors off to help his little boy.

"You are _free_."

Alex sighs, his warm breath landing on his father's chest as he snuggles closer. His grip on his notebook slacks for the first time that night, his pen slipping out of his hand and landing on the blanket. George carefully places both items on the table next to the lamp. Taking a second to look once more at his quietly snoring mate a few feet away, the Alpha turns off the lamp, the snap of the switch sounding a split second before the room is cast in darkness.

Running his fingers through Alexander's hair, the President listens to the combined breathing of all 4 of them, their scents intermixing to create an aroma that makes the wolf inside of George shiver in happiness. The half-moon shines through the slightly opened window, creating enough light for the Commander to see the rising and falling of their chests. Turning to the opening of the curtain, the Alpha listens to the routine sound of his Agents changing guard for the night, one complaining about the bitter taste of Hospital coffee.

Shifting down into the sheets, George curls his body protectively around both of his children, feeling Gilbert curl up against his back. Blinking slowly, the President deliberately clears his mind, trying to not think about his nightmare and the memories trying to break free. He doesn't fall asleep for an hour or more, the only indication of the passage of time being the slow rising of the Moon.

When his eyes finally slip shut, when the dark, red stained eyes of his first kill are no longer staring at him through the blackness of his own thoughts, the last thing that flashes through George's mind is the feeling that the news of Lee's capture is going to help Alex for the better.

No matter how many nightmares the criminal causes George in the process.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: And Chapter 16 is making an entrance! *crowd cheers* I hope you enjoy!:)**

 _ **Trigger Warning for gun violence and**_ **death!**

Disclaimer: I do not own Hamilton: An American Musical.

The Television is turned on low, the sounds of the cooking show a soft murmur that barely reaches George's twitching ears. He is pacing, back and forth across the tile floor, running his hands over his tie and dress shirt to smooth any invisible wrinkles. His mate watches him from their bed, closing the magazine she is reading with a snap.

"I still don't understand why you are so nervous." She reaches up to grab her reading glasses from her nose, pink nails bright, "You know that Jeremy Burr is the best Press Secretary you could ask for."

"I know, but-" The President cuts himself off with a groan, stopping near the window and glancing out.

Alex and Gilbert are in the courtyard, a neon orange frisbee being tossed between them, the open window blowing in their scents on a light breeze. His youngest Omega is still limping slightly, his head no longer wrapped up in the obnoxiously bright white bandages, a red line running from his forehead to his right ear. His face, when he turns toward the window, is barely bruised, the only indication of his injuries being a yellow and black speck on his cheek and chin, his cut lip scabbed over.

Laughter flows into the room, blocking the sound of the chocolate cake being made on the T.V. A few Agents stand around them, eyes wandering and feet shifting as the clouds start to thin. George glances around the grassy yard, checking for any signs of threats, and finding none, turns back around to face his Omega.

"You don't trust him." The First Lady says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and stepping down, her magazine slipping from her lap.

George shakes his head, reaching over to adjust the volume of the Television as a particularly loud car commercial blares out. "No, it's not that I don't trust him. I just don't trust the media. You know how they blow things out of proportion. Remember the Cheating Scandal of 2013?"

The Omega laughs, walking toward the open bathroom door, looking back to talk over her t-shirt clad shoulder.

"Trust me, how could I ever forget? I think your cousin was scarred for life."

George huffs in amusement, watching as the oak door is closed behind her. A swish in the curtain catches his attention, and the Alpha turns around just as Scarlet Harris walks hesitantly in. Her lime green dress is blindingly bright in the white interior, heels tapping on the cool floor.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. President," she says, reaching out one hand to shake the Commander's.

"Hello, Mrs. Harris." George replies just as Martha walks back out of the bathroom, her hand still slightly damp from washing.

"I just wanted to let you know that the Press Conference will be starting in around 10 minutes, sir. Would you like me to go get your sons?"

The Alpha shares a look with Martha, who shakes her head in negative, turning to look out the window at her babies. The Omega's are now sitting on a blanket, snacks spread out around them as they eat and talk, a more laid back Service Member sitting down beside them, her eyes covered by a pair of black sunglasses.

"No, I think they are fine for now. Thank you Scarlet." The First Lady says, giving the young Omega a smile as she changes the channel to the local News Network.

"Your welcome, Ma'am."

Shifting on her feet, the Chief of Staff gives a nod in acknowledgment, glancing between both Washingtons before turning and walking out. She walks back in after a few seconds, Jim Mulligan following close behind. After greeting the General, all occupants of the room take a seat and focus on the Television just as the Newsagent switches to the Press Room.

Jeremy Burr walks quickly into the now crowded room, the view on the T.V screen making him seem taller than he really is. An American Flag stands proud behind him, the red, white and blue getting ruffled by the slight wind blowing in from the air conditioning unit above. Flashes of cameras light up the Secretary's damp face, his dark skin a stark contrast to his pressed white shirt. He clears his throat, ears twitching as he waits for the Press to take their seats. Once the room is relatively quiet does he speak, the speaker on the Television filled with static.

"Good afternoon. Thank you all for coming. I will be answering questions one at a time, and if you need to ask something please raise your hand."

The Omega nods once, before pointing to an older women in the front row, her dark hair slightly grey at the roots. Her squinted brown eyes are locked onto Burr as he shuffles his papers. She stands up, her notebook and pen held out to start writing.

"Jessica Walker of New York Times. Can you tell us anything about the President's absence from the White House over the last 4 weeks?"

Martha shoots a quick look at her mate, brows raised in a silent question. George is quick to reassure her, squeezing her hand as he sits down further on the cot.

"It's okay, honey. I called Jeremy yesterday and went over what he is allowed to reveal. He knows any extra information given will not be tolerated."

"I cannot give you much information, as it is a open Investigation, but what I can tell you is that the President is currently staying in a unnamed Hospital while his youngest son, Alexander, recovers from severe injuries inflicted by an classified source." Burr says, tail flicking around the pedestal.

A murmur escapes the once quiet crowd, pen scratching quickly across notepads as information is collected. Hands of many shades pop up all at once, voice recorders held out to capture what cannot be written in time. Jeremy's dark eyes widen a fraction, the President knowing that he is more than capable of handling so many people, but feeling slightly sympathetic for the quiet man. The Press Secretary composes himself quickly, pointing with a steady hand to a younger gentleman in the middle row, his pink tie slightly wrinkled.

"David Horn of the CNN Newsroom, a unnamed source relayed that they had seen multiple Police and F.B.I. officers entering and obtaining boxes full of evidence from the address of 1224 Winfield Avenue. Can you tell us if this has anything to do with President Washington's recent visit to the local Criminal and Justice Facility?"

George watches Martha's reaction carefully, hoping that the reminder of his lie and meeting with Charles Lee wouldn't spark a negative reaction. Luckily all she does it shift closer to him, her scent sharp and bitter with anxiety. The Alpha growls soothingly, kissing her temple as her ears draw back slightly. In the corner of his eye, the President sees Scarlet shift in her seat, taking in the sight of the Meeting Room glowing on the screen. Jeremy licks his lips, reaching up to scratch at his nose as he answers.

"That information is classified. Next question."

Ignoring the huff of annoyance from Horn, the Omega continues to answer question after question, most being dismissed with a snappy Classified. It's when an older Alpha, an man with thinning brown hair and warm green eyes, asks a question what makes the whole room go quiet.

"Mr. Burr, you said earlier that President Washington's son, Alexander, was sent to the Hospital with major injuries. Was his condition life threatening and is he stable now?"

George looks at the Television in slight shock, not expecting a Reporter to care about the wellbeing of his baby. Most Press he had the pleasure of meeting only cared about the value of their story and not about the health of their subjects. Looking over at Mulligan, the President can see his disbelief is reflected in the Omega's brown eyes. His Press Secretary, when the Alpha turns back to the screen, is waiting for the whispers that fell throughout the room in the silence that followed the question.

"I'm sorry sir, but what is your name?" Jeremy asks, leaning forward above the wooden pedestal, his dark ears pulled forward in attention.

The man smiles, his teeth white and as straight as plywood. His ears twitch, tail flicking against the back of his chair as he stands up straighter. "Paul Revere. I'm with the Midnight Rider Newspaper."

"Alight Mr. Revere. Alexander's condition was not life threatening and he continues to get better everyday. Thank you for your question."

Burr leans back once the Alpha had nodded, sitting back in his chair and pen moving across his paper with vigor. Blinking, the Press Secretary shuffles his paper, glancing at the clock that seems to be located on the back wall, out of the view of the camera. George can tell the Omega is getting restless, his ears twitching and feet shifting.

"We only have about 5 more minutes left of this meeting, so any last minute questions must be asked now."

Pointing toward a red haired women in the back row, her yellow scarf bright between the layers of dark blue and black, the Omega waits patiently for her to stand up and ask her question.

"Molly Greyson of Fox News. Does the recent arrest of a Alpha by the name of Charles Lee, a retired Army Sniper, pertain to this case?"

The President waits for Burr's reaction with belated breathe, knowing that any hesitation on his part could mean the suspicion of every Reporter in that room. But the Omega doesn't even flinch, his eyes steady and voice collected.

"I'm sorry, but that information is classified." Getting the signal from his Agent, Jeremy waves his hands in a downward motion, trying to tell the Press to lower their many hands. "I'm afraid that is all the time we have for today. Thank you all for coming. May God bless you and God bless the United States of America."

The attended Journalists give the Press Secretary a round of applause as he gathers his notes and makes his leave. Once he is out of the room and the lights have dimmed do they start to get up and exit. The local News Channel- News 29- plays a small jingle before panning back to the newsroom. An African American women, gold earrings hanging from her perked up dark ears, starts to speak after a second.

"When we come back: Reading Between The Lines: how Secretary Burr answered some condescending questions and left us all still pondering what is happening in the White House."

The jingle is played again, the screen fading to black before a brightly colored juice commercial blares out, the announcers voice seeming to fill up the whole room. George quickly stands up, moving around the bed and grabbing the remote. Clicking the button, the Television is abruptly cut off, the only sound being the muffled talking from few rooms over, and the light breeze blowing into the window, the blinds clicking against the wall. Turning back around, the Alpha reaches out to shake Mulligan's hand as he steps over, Scarlet right behind him.

"I think that went quiet well, sir." The General says, his tail wagging slightly. "The Press are left with just enough information to satisfy their editors, but not enough to go into great detail."

"They are still asking questions. Questions that we cannot answer, not unless we want them to be all up in our faces." George argues, ignoring the frown that marks his mate's red lips. Squeezing her hand, the Alpha starts to walk over to the window.

He is stopped by Scarlet's voice, her scent getting carried away from him by the wind blowing in, goosebumps rising along her arms.

"They are always going to ask questions, Mr. President. Even if you tell them that the sky is blue, they will argue that it is orange. It's part their job, sir." She shrugs, smiling at her boss when he laughs, leather shoes squeaking on the tile floor as he turns back around.

"Quiet right you are, Ms. Harris." He says, his tone light. His voice suddenly drops, becoming serious. "I am going to need you to do some damage control, make sure that the Press don't stick their noses where they shouldn't be. When you get back to the White House, send me a copy of all stories pertaining to Alexander and his case. . ."

Martha comes over to join them, looking only once at the open window, where the silence that has fallen outside somehow louder then the laughter that sounded earlier. Her stomach drops in nervousness, and she raises a suddenly shaking hand to rest on her Alpha's shoulder. George sniffs the air, turning sharply around as the bitter taste of her fear scent settles on his tongue.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He asks, his teeth enlarging as he gathers her into his arms.

In the corner of his eye, the President sees General Mulligan talking quietly and ferociously on his almost invisible headset, his movements animated and agitated. Scarlet is taking notes next to the door, her notepad held out and pen scribbling. She stops though, once she notices the grim atmosphere of the room. Her tail subconsciously tucks between her legs and she carefully scoots closer.

Martha grips his arms, her claws drawing small drops of blood as they cut into his skin, her browns eyes widening in fear. "I think something is wrong with the boys. We need to-"

She is cut off by the sound of a shrill scream crashing into the room from outside.

With a curse, George races out of the room, ignoring the Agents that jump to attention as he passes. Turning his head, the President is pleased to see his mate running only a few feet behind him, her movements sharp and as agile as a snake. Her face is pinched in anger and worry, and she shifts suddenly, her smaller brown body slipping easily around him and racing toward the stairs. Snarling, the Alpha shifts as well, his paws thudding on the cool floor. Cocking his ears to the side, George listens as Scarlet and Jim pant behind them, their human legs no match for the wolves furious sprinting. Taking the steps 4 at a time, the President arrives at the bottom at the same time his mate exits the building, her growls and snarls edging him on as he jumps. Doctors and Nurses race to get out of his way as he runs through the lobby, his Secret Service Agents now ahead of him, their guns out and faces grim.

The Sunlight blinds him for a second, the smells of grass and birds disrupting his senses as he pants on the concrete. A commotion a few yards away catches his attention and the President races toward the scene, the colorful flowers that line the yard blurring as he runs. Martha waits for him a few feet away, not speaking but leaning close for comfort as they round the corner.

Alexander and Gilbert are surrounded by multiple News Reporters, more than the 4 Agents could hold back. The trespassers were shoving microphones in their faces, shouting questions that the Alpha couldn't make out, his ears flattened against his head as he sprints. Gilbert shoves himself in front of his brother, yelling at the Press in French. An Alpha male, a blond man with blue eyes, pushes his oldest child out of the way, causing Laf to fall into the dirt, his hands and knees catching him before he could hit his face. With a howl of fury, George makes it over to them, and throwing himself on top of the man, snarls as his mate begins to comfort their babies.

Alex is crying, his hands thrown over his ears as he rocks back and forth. Gilbert, trying to be strong for his younger brother, stands in front of him, growling at the men and women as they are forced back by Agents. Martha finally makes her way through the crowd, snarling at anyone that gets to close. Lafayette, his face falling and emotions finally snapping, leans down and wraps his arms around his mother's fluffy coat as she curls around her boys. Tears fall from his eyes, but he doesn't sob, his shoulders shaking slightly.

George shifts back into a human, pushing the man that violated his child back so that he stumbles, tail tucking between his legs as an Agent grabs his arms. The President turns around, crouching in front of his Pack, growling loudly the whole time. Flashes suddenly appear as the Journalists snap photos, the cameras clicking. Martha whimpers at the sound, tightening her now human arms around her children as they stop crying. Alex, lifting his red face from her chest, snarls for the first time, his brown eyes sharp as his mommy picks him up, Gilbert trailing behind them as they start to walk back to the room.

"I'm going to get them looked at. Take care of these people, George." She spits out, her lips curling up as her bodyguards line up around her.

The Alpha just nods, hoping the love he feels for them shows in his eyes. He watches as they quickly make their way across the lawn, ignoring the shocked stares of the other patients through the windows as Alexander's legs swing in time with her steps. Gilbert grips her hand, trying to control his breathing as she wraps an arm around his waist, kissing the top of his head as she starts to calm down. They disappear through the automatic doors without incident.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, the Commander tightens his jaw, turning to face the mass of Reports that are now held back by multiple Service Members. The Alpha that pushed Gilbert is in front of him, the sunlight shining against his yellow hair. He looks down, blue eyes squinting.

"How did you know we were here?" The President asks, his voice quiet and filled with anger. When no one answers, he asks again, watching as Mulligan paces in front of him, ears drawn back and hand positioned on his gun. "As your President, I command you to answer me. Where did you get your information from?"

A few people shift on their feet, some reaching down and fiddling with their equipment, before raising their hands when yelled at by the SS Officers. A young women, her Omega scent flowing into his nose on the breeze, takes half a step forward, raising her grey eyes in slight defiance.

"Technically, its 'who did we get our information from' not 'where'- " she says, voice sounding congested and sniffing with false dignity.

The Commander cuts her off, snarling. "You dare to come to a Hospital, where there are sick people, get into my children's personal space and hurt them, and then correct me on my grammar?!"

No one moves, and the Alpha, feeling restless, starts to pace. He goes back and forth, feeling all eyes locked onto his moving form as he cuts a trail in the sweet smelling grass. The sun is warm on his back, and if not for the circumstances, George would have enjoyed the relatively cool summer air on his damp skin.

"Senator Thomas Conway."

The soft voice stops the Commanders rapid movements, and turning around sharply, he sees an older women, her hair long and getting pushed in front of her hazel eyes. She lowers her gaze in submission when he steps closer, his Agents tensing but making no move to interfere.

"Excuse me?" George asks.

"Senator Conway told us where you were. I'm sorry if we hurt your children in anyway, President Washington."

Trying to hide his shock and anger, the Commander just nods, not trusting himself to speak. Looking over at Jim, George is pleased to see him beginning to lead the gang of News Reporters back to the front of the building, Agents following close behind.

Scarlet steps up beside her boss, her face pale and blue eyes wide. Her clipboard is still in her right hand, the metal clip glowing in the white light, reflecting the pale sky.

"Sir, what does this mean?" She asks, gripping her pen so hard her knuckles turn white.

"It means that Thomas Conway betrayed National Security. . ." George says quietly, slowly turning around and beginning to walk back to the room, tail drooping and ears twitching. ". . . and my trust."

A shout behind him catches his attention, and the Alpha turns around just as the blond male that pushed Gil breaks free of security and starts to sprint back toward them, his hand reaching into his front pocket. George instinctively pushes his Chief of Staff behind him, ignoring her noise of protest, as the unknown Alpha stops a few feet away, his blue eyes crazed and twitching. The President snarls, trying in vain to back up.

A flash of metal is all he sees before his Agents open fire.

"No, stop-"

But he is to late. 3 spots of red expand on the man's chest, one right above his heart and the other two on his right breast. A smile expands the Alpha's face, blood getting squeezed between his crooked teeth as his body fights to stay alive for a few more seconds. Drops of the rusty liquid slide down his chest, landing on the grass, the red and green mixing like a horrific version of a Holiday decoration. His eyes, locking onto George's one more time, go blank all of the sudden, like a candle that is suddenly blown out. He falls backwards, his now lifeless body hitting the ground with a hollow thump.

For a second, light hair is replaced with dark, and blue eyes are replaced with brown. The President shakes his head, clearing the image from his mind as cameras flash in the distance. Shouts make their way into his ears, Mulligan running and quickly taking the Alpha's arm, pulling him and Scarlet toward the door.

"Sir, you need to move." Is all he says, signaling with one hand for 5 Agents to block a path.

The President doesn't respond, his feet moving automatically as his mind races to keep up. He is vaguely aware of going into the Hospital, of stepping into the elevator and riding up to the right floor.

But all he can think about is the fact that New York Senator Thomas Conway betrayed him and the White House. And that his actions caused a man to die, even if it was suicidal.

Turning toward his Chief of Staff, George says in a calm voice for her to get a car ready to get him to Capital Hill, as soon as he checks on his Pack, his wolf still restless and snarling. She doesn't speak, only nods and walks away, her face pale and hands shaking.

"Ms. Harris?" The Alpha calls, feeling guilty when she flinches, turning around slowly as though she was getting ready for her execution. "Are you alright?"

Her face softens, hand reaching up to brush a blonde curl from her forehead as she answers with a quiet, "Yes, sir, I'm fine. I'm just happy you weren't hurt."

Smiling gratefully, the Commander turns back around, walking past the Nurses station. He choses not to look out the window, knowing that he will see the Paramedics hauling the man's body into the back of an ambulance. George shakes his head, hoping that his mate and sons didn't witness the shooting. The man's death still plays in his minds eye, mixing with his first kill like a bad horror movie.

No matter what, the game was changed as soon as the last breathe left that man's body. And George is going to get answers, what ever means necessary. Starting with Thomas J. Conway. And ending, hopefully, with Jane Lee locked up behind rusty bars.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:D**

 **(P.S: My Tumblr is Keep-A-Bucket-Full-Of-Stars. Come chat or just say hi! I also except prompts ;D)**


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